


Revived

by phinflynn



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Incest, M/M, Psychological Horror, Work In Progress, this is my first time tagging pls be gentle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phinflynn/pseuds/phinflynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of a tragic accident, Phineas must play God to restore the shattered body of his beloved brother and best friend. While Ferb struggles with the conflict of his emotions and the reality of his gruesome fate, Phineas pretends all is right with the world and faults friends and family for being mortified by what he's done. When things go too far, the boys must fall back on the unlikely support of an elderly scientist and their own pet as their friends and sister try to put a stop to what's been done. How far will Phineas go to keep things "status quo"? And how much of this insanity can Ferb take?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story was a long time in the making and is still updated rather slowly, as I need to be in a certain mindset to really write things the way I want them (though nice comments and fanart certainly help bring that mindset back). Regardless of how long it takes, however, I fully intend to see this story through to the end.
> 
> All my thanks go to those who helped form the story back when it was called "Phineas Plays God"; your drabbles, art, and ideas all helped make Revived what it is today. I couldn't have done it without you.

When the boys were fourteen, they had been kicked out of the garage by their father, who adored their inventions perhaps more than anyone but had projects of his own that needed to be finished. They were well used to making things in the back yard, but upon being expelled from an enclosed environment in which they'd planned to build, it occurred to them that they should have a workplace of their own for the times when the outdoors just weren't practical. And so was born their Big Idea of the day - building a shed.

Their parents liked it, and Candace admitted that she might be able to handle some of their antics if she just didn't see them. The shed was theirs and theirs alone, a safe haven even more intimate than the space beneath the oak tree, and it found much use in the following summers as they went about seizing the day with gadgets and gizmos of all kinds.

Five years passed before it underwent the makeover.

It wasn't an easy decision for Phineas to come to after all he'd experienced within it, all the memories embedded in its walls... but it was a necessity. He needed something that wouldn't vanish in a day, something that would shield him from the prying eyes of all he knew, curious as to his intentions and plans. The garage was completely out of the question, what with its ease of access, and he was more than a little reluctant to venture beyond the house in those days. It was safer to be closer to home... somewhere familiar.

Everyone saw him working on the shed. He didn't exactly go to any extreme lengths to hide it.

From the windows of the house, his family watched him replace the roof and reinforce the door and cart loads and loads of wires and machinery inside. Linda and Lawrence saw it as a coping mechanism, a distraction so that the overwhelming pain wouldn't consume his mind. After all, Phineas Flynn was quite a resourceful young man; wouldn't that be just the sort of thing he'd do? Candace was more reluctant to accept the new behavior, but was wary of interrupting it, lest she unleash more of the grieving process. Whatever Phineas was up to, he needed to do it alone - and he made that quite clear.

Isabella and Baljeet and Buford came over from time to time, and they would watch in silence as he tinkered with high-voltage power sources and tested the strength of different components and metals just outside the door of the shed. To them, it seemed more than likely that Phineas was losing his mind. They _were_ the ones who would notice; they were his best friends, the ones who knew so much about him from the years spent at his side. They saw the dazed look about him and the frantic way in which he went about his business, how he hardly seemed to notice them or anything else happening around him as he worked. They agreed amongst themselves that whatever he might do once the shed's modifications were finished would surely be drastic, or perhaps just desperate, some final flailing grasp at what once was.

If only they knew.

Time passed, slow for some, too fast for others. Fall settled in and offered a dark and dreary October to the Tri-State Area, blanketing it in fog and blood-red leaves.

The shed had become a fortified mechanical hideaway in the back yard. The windows were now useless, having been boarded over with wood painted black, and the walls had been soundproofed - whether it was to offer sanctuary or to hide what was within, no one knew.

No one but Phineas, anyway, and he offered no answers.

There were times when his family saw him, but it was only on account of the fact that he had apparently neglected to put a bathroom or kitchen in his fortress. The most attention he paid to anyone was to Perry - questions were dodged with non-committal grunts and gestures, affection refused as though it were violence. He had receded not only into the shed, but into his own mind; his parents and sister could only appreciate that they saw him at all.

His best friends weren't so lucky - they _never_ saw him, partially on account of the "STAY OUT" sign he'd taped to the back gate (complete with a condescending smiley face at the bottom). He didn't want their company, and they worried too much about his mental state to go against his wishes. Besides, they still had school; their educations couldn't be put on hold like his, and their few weeks of grief-break had been spent watching him hide himself away. Whatever free time they had was best left to their own obligations, not to breaking down a reinforced steel door designed to keep them and the rest of the world out.

The world was not quick to forget Phineas, though, and he was always in the thoughts of those who knew him. There were hushed whispers of high hopes, optimistic thoughts that perhaps his isolation would lead to some sort of stability. Phineas Flynn wasn't fantastic at dealing with emotions by himself... but maybe this was the best that could be done. Maybe he just needed some time alone. Some of them even reasoned that all he needed was the loving face of his pet to reassure him - after all, hadn't he spent years in silence, only accompanied by a blank stare?

They didn't understand.

As far as Phineas was concerned, _no one_ understood. And in their ignorance they had missed everything that was important about all of this, about everything he had done and was trying to do. Even so... he was grateful for it. Despite their misled intentions, they were doing what was _right,_ leaving him to his own devices and allowing him to work on the most important thing he would ever do. In the past, he had always been the leader, the thinker; what was different now? _Nothing!_ He had thought of his plan, his _Big Idea_ , and even without the helping hands he was accustomed to, he would see it through. And it all would have been harder if he wasn't able to be alone.

Busy days and sleepless nights passed by in an indistinguishable blur. There were times when Phineas would notice the grease covering his body and the stench overpowering the decay, and he had the decency to abandon his work just long enough to give himself a thorough wash. He ate when his stomach hurt, napped when his eyes closed of their own accord, and took breaks when his knees creaked and his hands throbbed. He was only aware of his own needs when his body began to scream at him, and it was only then that his family saw him, his hair a mess and bags under his eyes, snatching food from the fridge or scurrying into the bathroom. Outside of all that, he worked... and worked... and worked.

And in the middle of October, as the leaves danced to the ground and decorated the roof of his little laboratory, he _finally_ put the finishing touches in place.

He was so giddy towards the end that he almost wanted to leave his shed and announce his joy to the world, but he knew it had to wait. Nothing was set in stone until he turned everything on - only then would he know if his effort had succeeded, or if there was more to be done. Phineas had banished the idea that it might be an impossible endeavor long before, back when it all began. There was no such thing as impossible. Not for him.

Not for Ferb.

* * *

Phineas checked again and again to make sure everything was in place. The wires, the plates, the exact placement of every limb - it had to be perfect. This was the culmination of all his efforts, the truth behind his isolation, the solution to the problem that had suddenly cropped up a month prior. He had _told_ them he could fix it, had told them all again and again - at the moment of truth, he could afford no mistakes. Phineas Flynn kept his promises.

When he was satisfied, he moved around the table at the center of the room to the wall that connected most of the wires and machinery that lay dormant all around him. First there were a swift few keystrokes on his laptop, and then he moved his hand to a large lever at the center of a control panel which he had helpfully labeled "ON" and "OFF". From the moment he had built it, it had been in the OFF position, but now the time had finally come to change that.

He fidgeted for a moment, clenching his free hand into a fist and staring at the table. For all his confidence, there were seeds of doubt in his mind; sure, they'd been planted in dark corners, never afforded the light of his ego, but they had survived just enough for him to be afraid that he may have done something wrong. Maybe it wouldn't work at all. Maybe the entire past month had been wasted, and he would have to devote even more time to the project, time he could barely afford even with the preserving gel.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, then pulled the lever down.

In a flash, the entire shed came to life. Clicks and buzzing filled the air and dissipated into the soundproofed walls as lights switched on one-by-one over various consoles and towers. The very _air_ thrummed in tune with Phineas's erratic heartbeat, surging in and out with immense power as every system moved towards the single most challenging goal ever faced by modern technology - nay, by _Phineas and Ferb_ technology.

The blue orb, held in a silver socket lovingly crafted early on in the project, was the last of the lights to come on in the shed. It glowed brilliantly against all the metal surfaces surrounding it, yet at the same time, made the surrounding flesh look even more pale and lifeless.

Phineas turned his head to his computer to take a glance at the readout; the optic was performing exactly as it had in test runs before he'd fully installed it, and was already taking in information - but he wasn't worried about that. He was worried about whether the information would actually be received by anything  _besides_ his program. 

The flesh and bones and _brain_ \- would they come to life too?

Everything was too tense, too unknown, and even without the electricity in the air his hair would have been standing on end. This was the culmination of everything Phineas had worked for, and even after all his effort, he felt like the chance of it working equated to flipping a coin into the gutter. Everything before him was still. _Too_ still. As still as it had been when -

Wait. Had the remaining eye fluttered? Had it twitched? It was so quick, he had no time to study it. He leaned forward, holding his breath, staring down at the face he'd slaved over for weeks - the face he loved so dearly, had sacrificed so much for.

It happened again, with certainty this time. It was definitely a moving eye, and with it came parting lips and a jerking chest, a strangled attempt to breathe that ultimately succeeded as the computer systems jolted the heart back into action. Fingers twitched, not because of the electricity but because they had been _told_ to, and after a few tense seconds they curled into a limp fist.

And the eye _opened._

For a moment, it stared up at the ceiling, to the suspended life support and glimmering florescent lights. Then it slowly rolled to the side, blurry and glazed... blinked... and focused.

"...Phineas...?"

A grin spread across Phineas's tired face, and he reached forward, his fingers ghosting over his brother's cold cheek. He had done it; he had succeeded. As promised, he had fixed what was wrong, and now all would be right with the world.

"Welcome back, Ferb."


	2. The Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

September had begun with the tail end of summer warmth still waving across Danville as though it were reluctant to go. With fall already beginning to take hold elsewhere and school having begun a month prior, it seemed like an odd time for Phineas and Ferb to call the gang in for the execution of another Big Idea. Summer vacation - though shorter than it used to be, now that they were older - had been filled with inventions and adventures of all kinds. Why would they devote their time to a new project when they were supposed to be focusing on their educations?

* * *

"Why not?" Phineas asked with a shining grin.

Isabella put her hands on her hips and gave him a disapproving look, and he smirked back at her before turning and jogging over to the growing frame of their creation, screwdriver in hand.

The argument, if it could even be considered as such, was over before it had even begun. Isabella honestly hadn't expected any different. Phineas was very focused boy, and when he came up with something he wanted to do, that was usually the end of it. School, chores, prior obligations, the laws of nature - none could dissuade him from his goals. And in all honesty, that was one of the very things that made Isabella love him so much. He was so determined, completely unstoppable when it came to the pursuit of his dreams. What girl couldn't appreciate that?

So she gave in, her hands falling to her sides and a smile lighting up her face as she walked closer to the construction zone. "Alright," she said. "So what is it?"

"It's a scrap metal sculpture!" Phineas replied in earnest. Then he paused, hesitating, before giving Isabella a sheepish smile. "Well... it's  _gonna_  be, anyway."

From the side of the shed came a loud guffaw, exaggerated for the purpose of making sure everyone paid attention. Buford, always the most generous of "critics", would not go unheard. "You dragged us back here for a freakin'  _art project?_ " he asked, as though an art project was something he would ever pass up on. "I knew ya lost some of your spark during the school year, but I didn't think it was  _this_ bad."

"I like it," countered Baljeet, who stood a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. "Though I admit scrap metal is not my preferred medium, art is a welcome break of pace from... everything else."

The door of the shed swung open, and out stepped Ferb with a box of scrap in his arms. Phineas had opened his mouth to speak, but it was his brother who said, "Come now, 'Jeet, you love all the things we get up to."

Buford chuckled as Baljeet sputtered for a reply. "Well, yes, but - no! No, I do not  _love_ it, I am merely a friend to you two and thus I join in your many adventures!"

As Ferb set the box down by Phineas's feet, Phineas took his place in the conversation back. "Aww, you know you don't mean that, dude. Maybe in the beginning that was the reason, but you love this just as much as we do! You have all kinds of fun!"

"And what, exactly, is your definition of  _fun?_ "

Buford pushed away from the shed and rested a hand on his best friend's shoulder, his expression a mix of amusement and affection.. "A'ight, stop arguin' with 'em, y'know you won't get anywhere," he said. "'Sides, they're right. You're just tryin' to act like you're more civilized than the crazy kids who build rollercoasters for fun. You can drop the act in good company."

Baljeet tensed up and pushed Buford's hand away. "I am not acting!" he protested. "I am merely expressing my distaste for -" Buford cut him off with a gentle shush, then went on to lay out all the reasons why Baljeet would want to distance himself from the rough-and-tumble summers of days past and why it was unnecessary. It was a debate that wouldn't end any time soon.

Isabella shook her head at the two of them, then walked closer to Phineas and Ferb. "So what exactly is this gonna be a sculpture  _of?_ " she asked. "And why scrap metal?"

Phineas laughed and handed off his screwdriver to Ferb, who pocketed it before rifling around in his other pocket for a different tool.

"Why not?" Phineas asked for the second time that day. "We have enough of it, don't we? As for what it's gonna be... Ferb and I were thinking of a giant metal platypus."

"I should have guessed," Isabella said with a teasing roll of her eyes. "So is there any way I can help?"

Ferb looked up, then, revealing that he'd been paying attention the whole time. "Yes, could you fetch the ladder for me, love?" he asked. "A certain red-haired airhead forgot that tall projects require ways to get up to the tall bits."

Phineas's eyes widened, then he smacked Ferb's arm, yelling something about how tool-gathering wasn't his job before falling into a fit of laughter. Ferb smiled a bit, then resumed his previous task.

It was funny, really, how little he had changed over the years. He  _had_  begun to talk more, but only by so much. A comment here, a request there, and he had gotten in his say for the day. Phineas always spoke of long nights spent laughing and talking and sharing secrets with Ferb, but to Isabella and everyone else, he was the same silent boy he'd always been, never revealing anything other than what he deemed necessary.

"Sure thing," Isabella said as Phineas pushed Ferb's shoulder for calling him an airhead (though he was still laughing about it). Ferb nodded but didn't look up again.

As she exited the gate and walked around to the front of the house, Baljeet walked closer to the brothers and raised his eyebrow in Ferb's general direction. "Did you just call Isabella  _love?_ " he asked. "Has something changed in the past few weeks?"

Phineas stopped laughing and looked at his brother with imploring eyes, as if something possible  _could_  have changed and he somehow wouldn't know about it. But Ferb remained calm, his eyes on the ruler he'd retrieved from the abyss of his pocket rather than on Baljeet's face. "It's a British term of endearment," he said as he knelt down to inspect part of the frame. "Typically used towards females, also applies to significant others of the same sex. Sorry to have upset you."

Yet again, Buford was chuckling to himself as Baljeet struggled for a response to a comment he hadn't seen coming. "I - you did not upset me! I was just curious because you have never - I do not - "

"Calm down, Baljeet," Phineas said as he hid a smile behind his hand. "It's okay if you have a crush on Iz, we won't tell."

"Right, 'cause it'd totally matter if ya did," said Buford. "We all know who she's got her eyes on."

"...We do?" Phineas lowered his hand, his smile gone, and gave Buford a puzzled look.

"Don't even bother," Ferb said before Buford could reply. Phineas looked over at his brother with the same expression, begging for answers, but then Isabella was walking over to them and the conversation was at an end.

"Here you go, Ferb," she said as she opened the ladder up and set it on the grass. He offered her a nod in thanks, then moved it closer to the sculpture and bent over to gather some more materials strewn about its base.

Isabella returned her attention to Phineas and gave him a sweet smile. "So... show me what to do and I can help you build this thing."

"Count us in," Buford added as he put his hand on Baljeet's shoulder again. Baljeet seemed about to object, then decided to stay quiet, knowing he'd lost the battle.

"Awesome!" Phineas exclaimed in glee. "Let me show you the blueprints!"

As Phineas hung up the blueprints for the giant metal platypus on the nearby whiteboard and began to explain them in great detail, Ferb leaned around the framework to watch. He smiled as Phineas swept his arms out in grand gestures of size and might, thinking to himself how fantastic his brother was - something he pondered often.

Phineas was such an  _endearing_  young man. He had a bit of a temper, sure, and he had the odd sad day, but overall he was a bright and bubbly boy who was always excited to embark upon the next adventure of life, whether that be finding long-lost civilizations or going shopping for a new mattress. He was beloved and admired, even looked up to by the children who'd grown up in the Danville built on his influences - and why not? Phineas exemplified what so many wished to be, confident and eccentric as he was. He wore pink hi-tops to the battlegrounds of high school, had a platypus for a pet, defied logic as a hobby, and even dared to have a  _girl_ as one of his _best friends._

Ferb didn't even mind that most people didn't realize he did those things, too. The spotlight was almost always on Phineas, and that was fine - because when it came to  _Phineas,_  he shone his light on Ferb. That was all the recognition he needed.

It was different when they were younger, of course. Ferb was never one to be the head of any situation, but he liked his credit, especially when it came to the ladies. He did plenty of work back in those days to try and impress any woman who crossed his path. And when he went through puberty and realized boys were just as fun, he'd made effort to attract both ends of the spectrum with his ever-so-sexy accent and ability to fix a car within ten minutes. Date after date had proven, however, that romance was fleeting and inconsistent - at the end of the day it was always Phineas who was there to appreciate all he'd done. And Ferb had grown comfortable with that, was more than content to recede further into the shadows where only Phineas (and their friends, to some degree) could find him. Perhaps "true" love would find him in time, but until then, he was content in the dynamic he and Phineas had.

In truth, they just  _fit_ together. For every direction one pushed, the other pulled. They were a perfect balance of emotions and ideas and creativity, the ultimate duo of ingenuity and platypus facts. Their disagreements were always short-lived, their "fights" never more than headed debates. They were even almost perfectly in sync, always aware of what was on the other's mind and what needed to be done before it was even said. They made music together, danced together, sang together, all without even a hint of rehearsal. When one vocalized an idea, the other already had the tools needed in hand; when the project was underway, they took turns in some special rhythm only they seemed to understand. It was as though they were bound together by invisible threads; a dual puppet, perhaps, operating under the same pair of hands.

Even at nineteen years of age, all of these things were still true. Fifteen years together... fifteen years of commitment and adoration and an inseparable bond. Ferb had his crushes (some very uncomfortable), Phineas had his obsessions (some very intense), and they both had their own agendas from time to time... but by the end of the day, they were always together again.

Always.

"Alright, everyone got that?" Phineas asked as he looked out at his three friends with one hand still on the blueprint. They answered in the affirmative, and then all four went to join Ferb by the ladder with their tools in hand. He had long since resumed his work and no one noticed anything out of the ordinary.

It was not long after they all began, however, that Isabella noticed the distinct lack of monotreme anywhere in the back yard. After so many years, she didn't really  _need_ to point it out; none of them did, not after so long. But old habits die hard, as they say.

"Where's Perry?" she asked, earning a glance from both Phineas and Ferb.

"Hm. That's weird," said Phineas. "Coulda sworn he was... Ah, never mind. You know Perry."

"This wouldn't be an issue if he was old and slow," Ferb said in that emotionless way of his. But then a tiny flicker of a smile graced his face, and he turned to his brother and spoke in a much lighter tone. "But  _someone_ just  _had_ to extend his lifespan."

"I can knock you right off that ladder, mister," Phineas replied, trying to smirk even as he held back a laugh.

* * *

"Behold, Perry the platypus - the Fall-Apart-inator!"

Perry glared out of the tiny window left for him in the Lego pen that had been placed over him almost as soon as he'd arrived. Most of his view was obstructed by one of Norm's legs; the rest of what he could see was some gleaming metal contraption placed just inside the back door, aimed out at the city below.

Heinz strolled in front of the machine, into Perry's view, and rubbed his hands together in what was likely an attempt at being sinister. "You see, Perry the platypus, this  _entire_ world is made up of things that are... well, made from other things. You put things together to make... bigger things..."

He faltered, then made a frustrated sound and crossed his arms. "Okay, that was awful, I should have thought it out first. But - but you know what I mean!" He looked over at the Lego cage, then resumed his evil grinning and walked closer to his invention to place a hand on it. "The Fall Apart-inator has the ability to make things... well, fall apart! From buildings to cars to clothing, I can make anything come undone in an instant! With just a press of this - Hold on. Can you even see this?"

The answer was no, but Perry only continued to glare. Heinz leaned over, back into his view, then out of it again. "Norm! You already trapped him, get out of here! How is Perry the platypus supposed to behold the doom of the Tri-State Area with your fat legs in the way?"

"That's very hurtful, sir!" said Norm, his voice deceptively cheerful. As he stepped to the side, he added, "How would you feel if I said something about your small legs? Not so good I bet!" With a full view of the scene, Perry saw Heinz's eyes narrow. He hadn't even opened his mouth before Norm went on again; "I'm sorry, sir, that was out of line."

As Norm moved, Perry noticed that the Lego bricks bounced a bit with each step - not sturdy in the slightest. He looked back to Heinz to hide the fact that he had noticed anything, but he already knew breaking out would be easy. They may as well have used Lincoln Logs, or Jenga bricks - then again, those probably would have taken longer to assemble. In any case, Perry would wait to make his escape; such was the ritual. And he really  _was_  sort of interested in this one... well, that wasn't the whole truth. Over the years, he'd become interested in almost  _all_  of Heinz's inventions and his reasons for building them. It had more to do with their relationship than any improvement on Heinz's part, really.

"Now then," said Heinz with a clap of his hands. "Back to the matter at hand! The Fall-Apart-inator will make anything it hits disassemble into the parts used for its creation! Not like, down to atoms or anything, just... you know, down to the individual components. I would have called it the  _Disassemble-inator_ , but I'm pretty sure I already used that for something else, and you really can't be redundant with these things." He paused, staring at the machine, then sighed. "I mean, there's a certain  _level_  of redundancy allowed when it comes to evil scheming... I mean, especially when your nemesis always foils you without fail..."

Perry raised an eyebrow and chattered.

"That wasn't a compliment," Heinz snapped, hands on his hips. "It's  _annoying_ , Perry the platypus. If you could just let me win  _once_  in a while -"

Perry stuck both hands out of the window of the Lego pen, displaying his wristwatch with one and pointing at it with the other.

Heinz narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Oh, do you have somewhere to  _be_ , Perry the platypus? Just for that, I'm giving you the  _extended_  version of my backstory." He cleared his throat, put one hand over his heart, and began in earnest: "You see, when I was a young boy back in Drusselstein..."

Perry grunted and sat down, the tip of his bill sticking out of the window of his pen. Of course, it was all an act by that point, but they both played the game. You weren't supposed to  _enjoy_  time with your nemesis, after all.

* * *

"Man, this is really coming along great!" Phineas said as he stepped back from the magnificent creation emerging in the backyard.

Isabella whistled in appreciation from her place by a box of scrap. "Yeah, it's actually starting to look like a platypus now," she said. And it was true; the framework was mostly done, and the work Ferb had been doing around the face was really giving it some personality. As a side-thought, Isabella added, "You know, I bet you could turn this into your shop class for a lot of extra credit." Not like it would last long after they finished it, nothing ever did, but it was a valid thought.

Even so, Phineas smiled and waved his hand at Isabella in a dismissive sort of way. "I couldn't move this thing if I  _tried,_ how would I turn it in?"

"You know what I meant!" Isabella stomped over to Phineas and gave him a shove, but he laughed when she did it and she laughed right along with him. He made as if to shove her back, but she just pushed him away with a hand to his face.

Ferb was coming down the ladder as they bantered, and the closer he got, the more critical his expression became. There was something else there, too, something very much like jealously, but no one was watching so no one noticed. "You can stop flirting now," he said once he was back on the grass. "I think we all get it."

"Flirting?"

Over by the base of the giant platypus's tail, Buford burst into wild laughter. Phineas looked baffled by the response and looked around to see if anyone else would answer him, but Isabella only looked flustered and Ferb's expression hadgone right back to being completely neutral. He tried to say he wasn't flirting with anyone, but by then Buford had fallen over from laughing so hard and that demanded more focus than Phineas's mumbled protest.

"It is not that funny," said Baljeet as he stood over Buford. "Pull yourself together." As Buford began to stand back up, still chuckling, Phineas could swear he heard him say something along the lines of "ten goddamn years", but he wasn't entirely sure. Ten years of what? Flirting? He didn't even know  _how_  to flirt, and if Isabella was doing it he'd never really noticed - she was much more upfront about her feelings than that anyhow.

Or so he thought. He thought a lot of things that weren't true; part of it was optimism, the other part naivete. Some things just didn't change in a decade. Of course, Isabella was getting tired by then, had even gotten over Phineas briefly before coming right back in middle school, and the others were all sure she'd come out with it sooner or later. Not that they hadn't always thought that - it just seemed far more likely now. She obviously loved him very dearly and it was only hurting her the way she kept it in and waited for him to notice.

Strangely enough - or perhaps not strange at all - was that Ferb was one of her biggest supporters outside of her girlfriends. He always had been for a variety of reasons, many of which shifted and changed over the years even as the goal remained the same. He supported the idea of his brother being with Isabella; they worked together. The jealousy remained, though, for reasons he was afraid to admit even to himself. He and Phineas were, after all, the perfect duo of brothers. To even allow himself to consider anything else...

Ferb banished these thoughts from his mind as he headed around to an underdeveloped part of the structure near one of the legs. The platypus was sitting up like Perry did when begging for food, and the pose made it rather tall; too much work on the head with chunks still missing down below would cause a lot of instability. Ferb considered waving someone over to help him, but Buford had returned to the tail and Baljeet was working on a foot, and soon enough Phineas and Isabella would find places to work as well.

Of course, that was when Phineas appeared, and before he could ask about the "flirting" comment, Ferb cut him off with a nod towards the section he planned to reinforce.

"Oh, sure!" Phineas said. "Let me drag one of the scrap boxes over here. You have the tools, right?"

Ferb held up his blowtorch, and Phineas grinned before turning away to fetch the materials. As he left, Ferb caught Isabella's gaze as she stood several feet away, her expression strained.

He could only shrug in reply.

* * *

"...And so, the Fall-Apart-inator will destroy the orphanage before it can be built, and Roger will be blamed for its poor construction and kicked out of office!" Heinz did his best evil laugh, fists raised in the air in triumph. This lasted all of five seconds before something occurred to him, something Perry had already taken for granted because he knew his nemesis well.

"Of course, this will be when no one is actively  _working_  on the orphanage - all the construction workers are going on break in just a few minutes, you see. I don't wait to  _maim_  anyone. I mean, maybe a sprain or something, but  _maiming_  isn't really my style..."

Perry looked out of the window in the Lego cage again, watching Heinz consider his own morals, then put his fingers on one of the bricks making up the sill and attempted to pick it up. It didn't come right away, but it didn't take much effort to get it loose. That confirmed his suspicions that glue hadn't been used. It really  _was_  just a Lego pen, probably meant to symbolize the overall idea of being able to break something down into its individual components - and with the backstory finished, it was just about time to demonstrate. Perry formed a fist around the single brick he'd taken, then punched through the wall of Legos, sending several flying and the rest toppling down around him.

Though hardly impressed, Heinz looked annoyed by the escape. "Norm!" he shouted as Perry advanced on him. "Didn't I tell you to use glue on those Lego bricks?!"

"I wanted to use them again, sir!" Norm replied from across the room.

Perry paused a few feet away from Heinz and waited for them to finish. In the years since Vanessa had grown up and moved out of her mother's house, Norm had been around for more and more schemes and adventures - despite all of Heinz's assurances to the contrary, it very much seemed that he saw Norm as more than an evil robot assistant, and enjoyed his company more now that his daughter wasn't around as often. So Perry treated their conversations and spats just like he had treated those between Heinz and Vanessa; unless they managed to hold up a chat while a fight was actively happening, he let them wrap it up before he finished his thwarting. It was a matter of respect, really.

As Heinz yelled something about his childhood toys (or lack thereof), Perry spared a glance at his wristwatch and frowned at the time. It had almost been enough time for the boys to finish up whatever the day's project was. He knew it was something about all the scrap they'd accumulated over the past summer, but beyond that he'd sort of tuned it out; regardless, few things they did took more than a few hours and almost never extended past sundown. He mentally cursed himself for letting Heinz go on for a long as he had about Drusselsteinien building practices.

"Just take your Legos back to your room!" Heinz demanded, pointing off in the direction of what Perry was sure was just a broom closet. "I'm kind of busy here, Norm, I don't have time for this!" He folded his arms across his chest and watched Norm for a moment before returning his attention to Perry. "Sorry about that, Perry the platypus," he said. "Now, where were we?"

Without missing a beat, Perry drew his arm back, then hurled the Lego brick he'd taken earlier directly at Heinz's face. As his nemesis recoiled in pain, Perry darted forward in an attempt to reach the Fall-Apart-inator, but was thwarted as Heinz recovered and threw a leg out to trip him.

"That was such a weak move, Perry the platypus!" he yelled as Perry rolled back onto his feet and sidestepped away. "You always go for the face - are you  _trying_ to take one of my eyes out?!"

Perry grimaced at the thought. Not necessarily because of how gruesome it was, but because it reminded him of the alternate dimension where Heinz was actually evil. Few things unsettled him as much as memories of _that_ man did. Such a warped version of someone he knew so well... He shook himself out of the thought as Heinz made a grab for him and just barely missed. Routine as their fights were, Perry couldn't afford to lose focus; it tampered not only with their tradition, but with his time. He wasn't going to miss dinner over uncomfortable memories.

So the two of them jumped and ducked and wove around one another in their typical fashion, Heinz yelling and taunting as Perry chattered and swung his fists in response. Over a decade they'd been doing this, and yet it never got old, somehow. It was comfortable in the same way that going home was comfortable - it was something to settle into, something cozy and familiar. Most of the time they didn't even leave any marks on each other in their fights; for all the punching and biting that was done, there was no real malice or ill intent behind any of it anymore. It had been like that for a long time; when it began, Perry couldn't remember. Heinz was his nemesis, yes, but the term had taken on different connotations the closer they got, most of them of the friendly sort. Maybe even more than that.

Not that Perry gave it too much thought or anything.

"What do you think you're doing?" said Heinz as Perry dove for one of his feet and latched onto his shoe. "I just got these shined, Perry the platypus! Get off!" He shook his leg, but Perry held on tight, even going so far as to bite down on the leather (which tasted terrible). Heinz lifted his foot up to try and dislodge Perry with his hands, but wasn't able to keep his balance and went toppling backwards into his own invention, changing the aim and activating it at the same time. As a single beam shot out over the town below, Heinz braced himself against the Fall-Apart-inator, his foot still in the air. "Now look at what you've done, Perry the -"

He didn't get to finish as Perry yanked his shoe off, dropped back to the ground, and scampered out of reach. "What was that for?!" he yelled after his nemesis. "You could have just  _asked_  -" Again, Heinz was interrupted, this time by his own shriek of pain as he put his shoe-less foot down on the very Lego brick Perry had thrown at his face earlier. He pulled his foot up again to grab it, then fell back again, this time into the railing of his balcony before he slid down to the floor.

"How could you, Perry the platypus?" Heinz wailed as Perry struck the self-destruct button with the stolen shoe. "You knew that Lego was there, Perry the platypus! You did that entirely on purpose!"

Perry flipped away from the Fall-Apart-inator as it exploded, shoe still in hand. He'd actually gotten his idea from a memory of Lawrence stepping on a few Legos barefoot not too many weeks before, when the boys had found an entire bin of the things in the attic and had decided to play with them in the living room. He tossed the shoe into the air with a satisfied chatter to let Heinz know that, yes, he had done it on purpose.

Heinz sat up and rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't look so smug. It's very unbecoming, Perry the platypus."

* * *

"What the hell was that?" said Buford as the last of the beam dissipated into the air surrounding the head of the giant platypus.

"I dunno," Phineas replied, both surprised and in awe. "It sure looked neat - I wonder where it came from?"

He was distracted trying to look for a source to the beam when Isabella tapped his shoulder, and he kept scanning the horizon for a moment before turning to her, hopeful that she had spotted it herself. She looked alarmed rather than excited, however, and when she pointed back to the sculpture with a shaking hand, Phineas saw why.

The sculpture was vibrating as screws and bolts twisted out of place and began falling down into the grass. The scraps that had been welded together were shaking apart, somehow separating entirely, melted pieces and all. Mesh and wires added around the face and tail popped right off and clattered down the sides. The whole thing was about to collapse, despite having been stable only  _seconds_ before.

The world slowed down as the four of them began to back away from where they worked, moving towards one another and as far from the giant platypus as they could get. For a moment it seemed like just another strange way that their creation would vanish, even though it wasn't completed; whatever it was that always assured their projects went away had been activated, somehow. It was as routine as the creations themselves. Yet as Phineas glanced at his friends, he realized that the routine was off - Ferb was always by his side at the end. Buford, Baljeet, and Isabella all glanced at him in turn, almost in slow motion, each realizing the same thing.

Phineas was the first to choke out his brother's name above the din of metal clanging and banging as it fell. His whole body felt gripped by the electric terror of what was unfolding before him as his friends joined in, screaming Ferb's name at the top of their lungs. None of it seemed real, especially not his own voice, wailing for Ferb as he tried to get his legs to move so he could run into the sculpture before it all gave way.

Ferb looked out of the opening he had slipped through and even began to step towards it as his friends all yelled for him. The way their voices sounded made his heart beat in a strange way, like it was up in his throat, threatening to choke him. He knew something horrible had happened. The sunlight outside spilled through gaps in the framework and illuminated Phineas, who was moving towards the base in a frenzy. They caught one another's eyes for a moment; Phineas looked terrified and desperate. Ferb reached towards him, almost out of the shadows inside the sculpture, then recoiled as a particularly heavy bolt fell on the top of his head.

He looked up just as everything came crashing down.

* * *

Rarely did Perry consider what happened when Heinz's inventions were set off during their battles. There had been a few times where the outcome directly affected him, but usually it was something harmless or under another agent's jurisdiction. Sometimes he picked up on the fact that whatever the boys had built had been taken away by whatever it was that Heinz or his machines had done, but that only happened every so often, really. The idea that both his lives would clash in such a way was strange; once he got home, Perry preferred to put thoughts of Heinz out of his mind.

Even so, as he rode his motor scooter towards Danville's suburbs, he briefly considered the Fall-Apart-inator's abilities and what it might have done. Heinz's comment about not wanting to maim anyone came to mind, but was quickly dismissed. People in Danville didn't get  _maimed._ Some old building that was scheduled for demolition had probably been hit, saving the workers all the trouble and probably doing something beneficial for Roger as well. That was how things went.

Perry repeated this over in his mind several times in a desperate bid to drown out the growing sense of dread he felt deep in his gut. He usually wasn't the sort of platypus who got paranoid - somehow, that made it feel even worse.

* * *

Phineas threw an arm up to shield his eyes against the cloud of dirt and debris send flying by the avalanche of metal. As it settled into silence, he lowered his arm and stared out into the dust, praying that at any moment, Ferb would rise up from the scrap pile.

That moment never came.

"Ferb?" His voice was soft, but just loud enough to hear, loud enough to warrant a response - but none came.

Isabella was the first to step forward, reaching out as if to touch Phineas's shoulder. She was in shock; they all were. She needed to be there for him, she knew that - even as she, too, hoped Ferb was going to be alright. He had to be. They were always alright at the end of it all, weren't they?

Her fingers were inches from Phineas when he began to shake, and she pulled back just as he opened his mouth to scream.

" _FERB!_ "

Then he was gone, rushing into the scrap with a complete disregard for all its sharp edges and protruding nails. His friends could only watch in stunned horror as he set upon the area he'd seen Ferb before it all fell, digging and kicking through the pile even as it fought back against him and cut him with every move he made. "Ferb, can you hear me?" he pleaded as he pushed some of the scrap back with one of his feet, seeming to take no notice of the jagged cut draw across his thigh as he did. "Are you in there? I'm coming, Ferb! You're gonna be okay!" His sweater caught on an exposed nail, and when it stopped his arm from moving, he forcefully tore himself away. In seconds the new hole in his sleeve was soaked in his blood.

Isabella could take no more. "Phineas,  _stop!_ " she shrieked, tears flowing down her face. "You're hurting yourself!  _Stop!_ "

He continued on as if he couldn't hear her, shoving more metal out of his way so he could reach closer to the bottom of the pile. His eyes were focused on whatever was below him, his teeth clenched and bared in his panic. His tears, mixed with sweat and dirt, fell in a constant stream down his face and dripped from his nose and chin. It was as though he had shut out the entire world but for his goal of reaching his brother underneath the wreckage.

Isabella turned back and looked between Buford and Baljeet, her eyes frantic and pleading. Baljeet tried to respond, or move, or do  _something,_  but found himself unable to decide what to do at all. He was overwhelmed and scared and only managed to clench his hands into tight fists, his fingernails digging into his palms.

Buford looked from Isabella to Baljeet, and then to Baljeet's shaking arms. He looked up as Isabella opened her mouth to speak, but then he was moving, making his way towards Phineas to forcefully pull him away. That was what he was good at - force. He didn't need to think about it. He just had to do it. He was the big guy, the muscle; he had to protect his friends.

He was only a few steps away when Phineas suddenly let out a loud, elated sound. " _Ferb!_  I see you!" he yelled, his lips shaking as his grin stretched as far as it would go. Buford stepped back in surprise, and Isabella moved to his side as Phineas all but disappeared past the wall of scrap he'd kicked up between him and his friends. "Oh, Ferb, everything is gonna be alright! Hang in there!"

For a single second, the possibility that everything would be okay reared up again. It would be the story of a close call, a near-death experience to add to Phineas and Ferb's mile-long list of experiences. Life would go back to normal. They would be fine.

Then Phineas rose up, holding Ferb by his underarms, and the sun cast down upon everything that had gone horribly wrong. Phineas was grinning, laughing, even as his face was streaked with blood.

Ferb's blood.

Isabella clapped a hand over her mouth mid-shriek, her other hand going to her stomach. Buford found himself unable to keep looking and looked at Isabella instead, then back at Baljeet, who had both hands over his mouth and looked like he was about to fall to his knees. Buford wanted to help both of them; he wanted to pull them both close, keep them safe. Yet he found it difficult to work out how to do that with how far apart they were, as if his mind just refused to work out the steps needed to fix that. Unsure of himself, he put a hand on Isabella's shoulder, wincing as Phineas laughed and Isabella let out a quiet sob.

Phineas had pulled Ferb up as high as he could, but Ferb had always been taller, and his right leg dragged through the scrap as Phineas moved back towards the grass. His left leg was mutilated beyond belief, skin and muscle shredded down to the bone, and there wasn't enough of it left to drag on anything. His right arm looked much the same as it swayed with Phineas's movements, and made it seem as though the metal had tried to tear him apart from his right shoulder down to his left foot; the worst of the damage seemed to spread out along that path. As Phineas knelt on the grass, making obvious attempts to be careful, whatever had been keeping Ferb's right arm attached finally seemed to give up, and it slid off of his body, thumping onto the grass near Phineas's knees.

"It's okay, Ferb," Phineas said, his lips trembling as he cradled his brother in his arms. "You're gonna be fine. We'll get you fixed right up. Just hang in there." He was staring down at Ferb's face as he spoke, yet it was though he didn't actually see it; he didn't respond at all to the torn skin, the gaping mouth, the one eye half-shut and unseeing, the jagged metal that protruded from the left eye socket. He spoke as though Ferb were looking back up at him, bruised and battered but relieved to be alive, as relieved as Phineas was to have rescued him.

"Phineas," Isabella choked out, one hand still over her mouth.

All of the sudden he seemed to realize his friends were still there as his head snapped up, his eyes fixated on them, shining and wild. "Call an ambulance!" he shouted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "There are med-kits in the shed, grab some of them! Do  _something!_ "

His voice cracked on the last word, almost as though he were about to lose his composure and crash back down to reality - but he didn't.

The others stayed where they were, staring at Phineas in different degrees of horror and disbelief. It was Buford who spoke next, uneasy and wavering: "There's... There's nothin' we can do, Phineas. He's..."

Blood ran down Phineas's arms, his own and Ferb's all mixed together, circling around his skin and dripping onto the ground. There was so much of it. Too much.

"He's going to be fine," said Phineas.

Isabella could take no more, and she broke into a fit of sobbing so powerful than she almost doubled over. Even as Buford rushed to support her, she was near falling, overwhelmed by the weight of everything that was happening. Her break caused Baljeet to begin crying as well; not as loud, or as strong, but he wept all the same, still unable to make himself move so he could join his friends.

Their grief seemed to send Phineas into a panic. "Stop it!" he yelled. "He's fine! He's going to be  _fine!_ " He seemed ready to leap up and shake them all out of their nonsense, but Ferb weighed heavily on his arms and legs. Instead he gripped his brother tighter. "Stop crying! I need - he needs our  _help!_ " He shook with the force of his own words, and Ferb swayed limply in his grasp, sending blood running in all new directions across both of them. Phineas could feel it coating his fingers, making his palms slick and sticky, but it was nothing to worry about - nothing to  _fear_ -

" _I can fix him!_ "

Phineas jerked back, almost as though he were recoiling from what he had said. Buford was staring at him, afraid and angry and desperate all at once, and Phineas met his gaze in shock. Then he looked down at Ferb, searching his face for something that made sense in the back of his mind. Ferb's remaining eye never met his.

"...I can fix him," Phineas repeated, his voice drowned out by Isabella's screaming and Baljeet's wails. "I can... fix him."

Buford found himself unlucky enough to see the horrid smile that spread across Phineas's face, splitting his lips into a snarling grin as he stared down at the body in his arms.

* * *

Lawrence was the one who delivered Phineas, kicking and screaming despite his wounds, to the waiting paramedics who arrived on the scene. As they placed his other son in a body bag, he helped hold Phineas still even as he shouted at everyone around him to let him go and stop touching Ferb. Lawrence stared into his eyes as Phineas looked up at him, pleading, and said, "Dad, don't let them take Ferb away!"

Buford, Isabella, and Baljeet were questioned briefly before being released to their parents, and then it was Candace - on a brief break from college at just the wrong time - fielding questions, as she had been the one to call 911 when she heard Phineas screaming outside. All she could tell them was that it had been some sort of sculpture project that had fallen, and yes, her brothers really did do such things without proper gear or protection, and no, they weren't too young to be doing such things - they'd been doing them almost as long as they'd been alive. She just barely managed to hold her composure through it all, then finally broke down when all attention was returned to Phineas, who needed to be loaded into the ambulance for transport to the hospital. She fell sobbing into her mother's arms, unable to respond when asked if she would be coming with them. Ultimately it was Lawrence who agreed to go, with the assurance that his wife and daughter would be along shortly. They just needed time to get ready, he said, dazed and emotionless.

Linda and Candace sat on their front steps as the ambulance drove away, holding one another tight and sobbing. Curious neighbors had appeared along the street in he midst of all the sounds, and now they stood in the distance, unsure of what to do or how to respond. Some weren't even sure what exactly had happened; they asked others in hushed tones if it had something to do with the Flynn-Fletcher boys, always in the midst of something strange or insane.

"I should have listened to you," Linda said between sobs. "I'm so sorry, Candace, I should have believed you..."

Candace couldn't even think of what to say. She had waited for so long to finally be validated, but  _this..._ This was all too much. This was a nightmare, not a victory, and part of her wished her mother didn't apologize at all. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, tried to say it was okay, then noticed they were no longer alone and decided to focus on that instead.

"Oh, Perry, there you are," she said as she lifted him from the ground and held him tight against her chest. "Oh, Perry..."

Tight against the fabric of her hoodie, his face half-obscured by her hair falling over her shoulder, Perry stared down the road where the ambulance had gone.


	3. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a small world.

The cost of the funeral was an issue brought up briefly and dismissed just as quickly. While not the richest family, the Flynn-Fletchers were _comfortable_ , and they had the expenses to spare for this one large occasion. And what an occasion it would be - family would be flying in, friends from all over the globe would be gathering... it was an overwhelming event to plan and not something they wished to focus on unless it was absolutely necessary. Not when more important things were at hand.

Lawrence was absolutely hysterical over the loss of his little boy. Linda was distant and nervous, constantly occupying herself to avoid facing the reality of the matter. Candace was devastated by her own inability to protect her brother and reveal the truth to her parents before it was too late. Phineas was quiet and withdrawn, always upstairs in his bedroom and murmuring to himself about what could have been and what would be. And Perry - the little domestic platypus who didn't do much - had descended into a deep depression, and seemed to have lost all will to live. His random excursions to God-knows-where had ceased entirely, and on every day leading up to the funeral, he could be found laying in his basket with the look of an animal that was perhaps his true age, rather than a scientifically-altered being meant to live for several decades.

There were times when they came together - to eat, to receive news - and when those times came it was always Phineas who spoke first. He addressed them with tired, wide eyes, his voice inquisitive and gentle and brimming with the false innocence of a broken child.

"Is he being taken care of? Are they keeping him preserved? Are they treating him right?"

They reassured him. Told him things they didn't want to say, about how he was fine and patched up and, heck, probably looked like he was just sleeping. They made sure Phineas was satisfied before they went about their other business.

The questions fit, somehow, with the nightmarish reality they had been plunged into. How could they have known? In their grief, how could they possibly see his descent into madness? The somewhat random questions about the state of Ferb's corpse came across as more of a bizarre coping mechanism... not a foreshadowing of his ultimate decision.

Had things gone differently - had Phineas not convinced them that a burial was absolutely necessary - it could have ended in a pretty wooden box on the mantle. Perhaps chestnut, or maple. Maybe oak, like their tree. A picture could even be fitted into a small frame on the front. It could be his graduation photo... or a group shot of him and his friends. His family.

It could have _ended_ that way.

* * *

"Perry the platypus? What are you doing here?"

That was the last voice he wanted to hear now, the last man he wanted to face. His fur bristled at the very thought.

Perry looked up from his place by the water bowl and made eye contact for a fleeting moment. Heinz was oblivious - even after so many years, the name "Flynn-Fletcher" didn't ring any bells. Sure, he had begun to recognize his nemesis sans-fedora, but remember his _family_? Never. As if there were really any chances for him to do so... outside of Carl and Monogram's numerous slips over the years.

Perry lowered his head again and glared into the water. It was dirty and filled with flecks of food from the buffet table above, and the reflection he saw within was of a creature he didn't recognize, something twisted by grief and rage and time. He hated to look at it but was afraid to look away lest it leap out and engulf him.

Heinz hesitated, confused, then took an eclair from the table and nibbled at it. "You don't have your hat, so... it wasn't because of me. Did you know this kid?"

Perry turned away from the bowl and laid down on the pavement. Let his water-self devour him; what did it matter?

Still oblivious, Heinz continued. "Roger did, a little. He decided he wanted to come out here today and do a big speech, of all things."

Perry's chest tightened at the mention of the Mayor. If Heinz was here because of Roger... he intended to muck things up somehow. That was always how these things went, how they had gone since the beginning. He had come to ruin this event to defame his brother and make him out to be some kind of monster. Outraged and infuriated by the idea, Perry jumped to his feet and bared his teeth, his entire body quivering with the force of his snarl.

Heinz looked at him in shock, his snack dangling from his fingers.

"Did... did I say something wrong?" He seemed about to bolt, all too used to his nemesis's violent moods and not at all prepared for battle, but then realization slowly dawned upon his face - as well as indignation. He planted both feet firmly on the ground and placed a clenched fist on his hip. "I'm not going to _crash a funeral_! Honestly, Perry the platypus, I'm _bad_ , but I'm not _that_ bad!"

Perry continued to shake and growl like a mad dog as the fury he had been holding back burned in his gut like a grease fire. This was _all_ because of _Heinz._ Because of that... that _horrible_ invention he had created, the one that had fired...

And yet... it would have hit something _else_ if they _hadn't_ fought, something more suited to Heinz's dislikes. If Perry had just treated it like any other -inator and not jumped the gun...

Then the rage was gone, quick as it came. Perry didn't lay down so much as he melted back onto the ground.

Heinz finished the eclair with slow bites, his eyes on his nemesis the entire time. When there was nothing left in his hand, he knelt down so they were closer to one another, he and Perry. The effort to move in such a way was taxing on him, and his knees creaked in protest as he placed his hands upon them.

"You... _did_ know this kid, didn't you?"

Perry's eyes turned upwards, leaving the rest of his head behind, and in that moment he was more pitiful than he'd ever been in his life.

With a sigh, Heinz sat down next to his friend (much as he denied it, that really _was_ the only word for Perry in his life), unaware of or intentionally ignoring the other people nearby who would want to reach the buffet table. He was focused more on his own thoughts - his _memory_ in particular. Where did he know the name _Ferb Fletcher_ , and how was Perry related? The name had certainly sparked something when he heard it... he assumed it was because of the connection to Roger, nothing else.

The time passed slowly until a figure approached them, a stark silhouette against the clouds of grieving family members dressed head to toe in mourning black.

"There you are, Perry. Is this your friend?"

Heinz looked up into the tired face of a boy much too young for such pain. He knew that this boy was part of Perry's family; the way he said Perry's name alone gave it away. It occurred to him, as it had in the past many times over, that this was an opportunity he could use to absolutely destroy his nemesis - a few choice words would unravel everything.

But again, nemesis was really only a job description - friend was a more apt word by that point. And friends didn't ruin each other's lives.

"Perry, huh? I guess it's as good a name as any for a platypus."

The boy smiled in a strained sort of way.

"I'm Heinz Doofenshmirtz," said Heinz as he struggled to his feet and dusted off his slacks. "The Mayor's brother."

"Phineas," said the boy as he extended his hand for a shake. "The dead kid's brother."

"...Oh." Heinz took the boy's hand gently, as though it might break. "I, uh... I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not like you killed him."

When Perry cringed in response to the grim comment, Phineas seemed to take it as a plea for affection and promptly scooped his pet into his arms. It was odd for Heinz to see Perry treated in such a way... just being picked up like a sad sack of potatoes. He didn't even _resist_. How many times had Heinz tried to lift his friend up to a ledge or seat only to have his hand swatted away?

Phineas turned to leave without so much as a _Goodbye, nice to meet you_. Heinz assumed that meant he could follow, and he did so with a sense of eagerness; he had never expected to meet Perry's family. Even in such grim circumstances it was exciting. He could learn so many things!

"So... this is probably gonna sound pretty tasteless," said Heinz as they walked, his hands groping for pockets that didn't exist in an attempt to appear casual, "but... how did he die? I just, you know, I followed Roger..."

Phineas stumbled over his own feet and then stopped short, hugging Perry to his chest as though someone were trying to take him away. In the silence, Heinz could hear the English relatives talking amongst themselves, could hear them crying as they placed keepsakes beside the gleaming black casket at the center of it all. The last funeral he'd been too wasn't nearly as sad. Then again, his father wasn't a very beloved man.

Heinz's eyes fell to Perry, who was looking at his owner with such _fear_. Perry the platypus... in fear. In was surreal.

"We were... making a sculpture," Phineas said after a while. As he straightened himself, his lips spread into a queer smile that spoke deeply of what was within his head. "Made of scrap metal. It was coming along fine... we almost had in finished..." He pet Perry's head a little too hard and looked away, out into the massive crowd surrounding the graveyard. "Then this... _ray,_ I guess... flew over us... hit it while he was inspecting the inside..."

Heinz's eyes widened a little, his eyebrows jumping up in alarm. His heart, a decayed thing that surged only for Vanessa and perhaps a few others he'd prefer to not name, thudded into his gut.

"...It fell apart," Phineas said. "Just like that. Everything came undone, and it fell on top of him, and..."

Perry looked at Heinz. It was a cold look, but it was sad, too, and Heinz knew why. Oh, in that moment, he _knew_. And for all the evil he did and would continue to do... this was too much. He wanted power, and respect, and fear... but _death?_ The destruction of innocence in those dark blue eyes? The suffering inflicted upon one of his only friends? The machine was meant to harmlessly bulldoze a few statues, not this, _never_ this...

"...That... that's horrible."

"We still don't know how it happened," whispered Phineas, his lips quivering as he spoke. The walls were crumbling down.

Without another word, Heinz reached out and pulled the boy into an embrace. Phineas collapsed into him, sobbing, mumbling nonsense into the lapels of Heinz's best (and only) suit. In a moment he had ceased being Phineas and was now Vanessa, weeping in her prettiest dress, so afraid and upset that she hadn't resisted at all when her father brought her close. Heinz could feel tears in his own eyes. The pain he saw here... the pain _he_ had inflicted, even if it was unintentional... it was all too much to bear.

Perry chattered in agitation, wriggling in an attempt to free himself from the space between them.

"Thank you," said Phineas in a weak mumble as he pulled away. "I'm sorry, I thought I... had that under control." He wiped his eyes with the back of one hand, the other arm still wrapped around Perry, who was confused and staring at Heinz in an obvious plea for answers.

Heinz shook his head. "No, don't apologize. You... you just went through something traumatizing. It's expected, if anything."

"Oh, of course. Of course..." The queer smile had returned with a vengeance. "But everything will be okay soon."

Guests were beginning to take their seats as Mayor Doofenshmirtz approached the casket, a sheaf of papers in his hand. He spoke in hushed tones to the grieving parents who held each other beside the podium, and as the conversation went on, they seemed to grow more and more upset. They daughter joined them in short time and seemed to take over for them, her stability less questionable but her grief all the same.

"You aren't going to kill yourself, are you?" Heinz asked in a shocked whisper.

Perry looked up as Phineas shook his head.

"No, no. That wouldn't solve anything."

Roger stepped away and took his place behind the podium with the papers set out where they could easily be read. After a brief once-over of his speech, he raised his eyes to the crowd and cleared his throat. It was a sound that demanded attention, and and as always, it achieved its goal. The service was beginning.

Heinz placed a hand on Phineas's shoulder and walked with him until they came upon his seat, which was hidden safely in the back so no one would see the mayor's shameful excuse for a sibling. Confused, Phineas paused there, and all eyes were on him as they waited for him to join his remaining family. He was oblivious - as always - and only had eyes for Heinz as he slouched into his chair.

"Go sit down, kid," Heinz said. "They're waiting for you."

Phineas opened his mouth, then closed it and frowned back at the people watching him. Their eyes still didn't leave him.

_If Ferb was there, he would understand..._

"You stay here with Mister Doofenshmirtz," Phineas said to Perry, who didn't struggle in the slightest as he was placed on his nemesis's lap. He merely gave his boy a gentle look before laying down on the familiar bony legs. It wasn't the best situation for him - he was still very much upset - but he understood Phineas's intentions and would play along.

Phineas reached out with a hand that wasn't quite steady, and Heinz took it in his own shaking grip. This was not a greeting; it was an embrace, a silent promise, a gentle reassurance. From one broken scientist to another.

Phineas's hand slipped from Heinz's fingers, and then he turned away and walked to his place in the front row.

"He's a good kid," Heinz said with a smile, and Perry chattered back at him in reply.

With everyone seated, Roger glanced down at his script one last time before looking up to face the crowd. When he spoke, his voice carried out across the graveyard, seemed to reverberate off of the stones.

"My friends... we are gathered here today to lay to rest one of the most brilliant minds Danville has ever known. Perhaps one of the most brilliant minds the _world_ has ever known."

He paused, gauging the reactions, and then went on solemnly.

"Ferb Fletcher was a young child of nine when I first met him ten years ago. It wasn't a life-changing meeting; I met he and his brother by coincidence, and learned, in our brief time together, that they were young inventors and dreamers. In this past decade I have seen this and more proved time and time again.

"Ferb and his brother Phineas have been key forces in making this town as great as it is. I cannot even count the times they have shown up at my office, full of brilliant ideas and quick fixes to problems even _I_ couldn't solve."

Roger observed the crowd before him, full of Fletchers and Flynns and the people Phineas and Ferb had met and helped over the years. Then he continued on with confidence.

"Lawrence and Ferb Fletcher were both born in England, and they migrated here when Ferb was just a little boy. Being an immigrant myself, I understand the life one is expected to lead and the trials they must face. And I say to you, my grieving friends, that young Ferb was an American to end all Americans. He was a gift of spirit and intelligence, a man I would have gladly given my mayorship to, if the opportunity arose.

"As we gather here today to remember his life, I want it to be known that the world is a darker, colder place without his presence. Let us grieve for the life that has been lost... and the lives forever changed by his departure. May he rest in peace, eternally, his brilliance a shining star in Heaven."

"Sounds like he was pretty amazing," said Heinz in awe, but this time he received no reply; Perry had covered his face with his paws as if to hold back the flood of tears, but they only leaked through and fell onto Heinz's pants.

Roger left the podium and was replaced by a tearful Lawrence, who described his son to the audience as though they had not all met him before. Linda was after him, sharing anecdotes and love, wrapped in the assurance that he was just as much her son as Phineas. Candace spoke next, shaking and sorrowful, lips pulled into a tired smile as she recalled the life lost - the life she had taken responsibility for as a Big Sister.

Phineas did not go after her. Next was Isabella, and then Buford and Baljeet, and various foreign family members. Vanessa even came to share a few words about the eccentric boy she had grown rather fond of. Heinz had been entirely unaware of this connection, and was extremely confused, but the grieving platypus in his lap offered no explanation.

Many people chose to speak of Ferb. Everyone had a different story to tell, a new insight to share - but none could beat the final speech. It _was_ Phineas who stepped up last, naturally, and he had prepared this painful occasion with a projector and a laptop full of home movies. There was no paper in his hands. No script. As it was for all of his life, he spoke freely, unhindered.

The projector whirred to life and cast a faded image upon the screen placed before it. It was a strange thing to those assembled; for all the high-tech gadgets the boys just up and _built,_ something so ancient seemed pointless. For Phineas, it did as it was supposed to.

The first film was of the second day Ferb had spent in their house. His family and friends were treated to a wide-eyed toddler with a soft voice as Phineas began to speak.

"When I was four years old, my mom brought home a stranger and his son to meet my sister and I. She told us that the stranger was a new friend she had met who was beginning to mean very much to her. She told us that he and his son were from another country and had moved back to the states because they needed a new home.

"The minute I met Ferb, I knew he was going to be my best friend in the whole world."

The clumsy toddler sat down on his rump, a young Phineas following suit, and the clip ended. The next was their first day of grade school. Both boys were dressed their best, holding each other's hands as they waved to the camera.

"He didn't share this premonition, but within the next few weeks we _did_ get pretty close. By the time our parents got married, we were _inseparable_ , and no matter what happened, that never changed. Ferb and I became close friends - perhaps the _best_ friends the world has ever _seen._ "

He gazed out at them, his eyes cold, body language withdrawn and hard to interpret. On the screen, the two young boys boarded their bus, and then that clip ended as well. The next was years later - during the first great summer. Two nine-year-olds held out a gleaming contraption for the camera to see as Candace fumed in the background.

"Ten years ago, during summer vacation, Ferb and I came to the realization that we were letting life slip us by. This was when we adopted the philosophy of _carpe diem_ \- Latin for seize the day."

Phineas smiled here, a wry upturn at the corner of his mouth.

"Or you could say that seize the day is English for carpe diem."

The boys on the screen were now showing their mother an amazing feat Perry had learned - if asked enough times, he would sit on command. Candace was less than amused as she stood behind them, her hands on her hips.

"Many times throughout our life, people have asked Ferb about why he never speaks. He's never gotten in a good answer. If there is one, he's never told me. While the world has only seen a stoic, quiet kid, I always saw a bright and snarky boy who had a million things to say if given the chance. Maybe he just doesn't like talking to most people, who knows? But in private, in the safety of our bedroom, he opens up like a blooming flower. Ferb has told me things that have stuck with me for _years_. He is a philosopher, a trickster, a mastermind, and a complete _dork._ "

Another clip began to play. Teenagers now, perhaps about fourteen, Phineas and Ferb danced together in the living room as their family howled with laughter.

"In short, Ferb is not someone to be forgotten. He is not someone who _goes away._ "

Older now, fifteen, maybe sixteen. Ferb lounged on a pool floatie with a soda in hand. Somewhere out of view, there was a yell, and he looked up just in time to see Phineas cannonball into the public pool. Linda - the camerawoman, as always - laughed up a storm as Ferb fell into the water, soda and all. Phineas was giggling like a madman when his brother resurfaced with murder in his eyes.

"I _refuse_ to let this be the end. There is no end to Ferb. To us. Not after all these years and all these _memories_. Not after what we've been through."

Ferb's eighteenth birthday. Expensive gifts were littered before him, all appreciated and admired in turn. Phineas then approached with a small box. The family's faces suggested their expectations - something priceless, something amazing. Upon opening the box Ferb only found a wrench with his name carved onto the handle. And yet... the look on his face said this was the best gift of all. The brothers embraced to a chorus of cooing.

"This isn't the end."

The last clip faded to black, and Phineas left his place at the podium and gathered up the laptop. The projector wasn't his, and it was abandoned as he returned to his seat.

There were no words on his performance. In fact, there were hardly any words at all; aside from the odd whisper, the crowd was silent, and the decision to begin the burial was unspoken.

Heinz joined Phineas at his seat when Lawrence and Roger and a few other men had shouldered the casket and begun to walk away with it. He handed Perry back when Phineas was on his feet, and together they watched the procession. It was odd how they came together now, of all times... the beginning of the end.

The dreary afternoon light glinted off of the polished casket before it was again shielded by the clouds. Heinz found himself impressed by its craftsmanship. He hadn't looked at many coffins in his life, but this one... this was _something_. He wondered how much it had cost and if that was something he could ask in a tasteful manner. He looked to Phineas, intending on making at attempt, but one look at his companion's face stopped the words in his throat.

The sorrow from earlier was gone. In its place was something... _sinister,_ something calculating and _cold._

The pastor hired for the event began to speak as the casket was lowered into the earth. He spoke of many things; God's love, and Heaven, and salvation... things Heinz thought were very much _absent_ from the scene.

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

Phineas's absence from the grave was not unnoticed; his sister was watching him from her place with her parents, almost _glaring_ as the earth was shoveled over what had once been her other brother. The wicked smile on his face did nothing to ease her annoyance with him.

"Mister Doofenshmirtz, I'm _always_ planning something."

* * *

The night was warm and heavy with an oncoming rain. Phineas was dressed for the occasion, just as he had been dressed for the funeral - only this time, instead of a suit, it was a rain slicker and waterproof combat boots. He had work to do, and he wasn't going to allow rain or mud to get in his way.

There were no high-tech gadgets accompanying him on this dreary September evening. There was only a shovel and a large red wagon he'd dug out of the garage.

A car would be best, of course, but that meant turning it on and alerting the entire family that he was _leaving_ and then _returning._ Might they ask where he'd been? What he'd done? The risk was too great. Under the cloak of darkness he felt much safer, especially with the freshly-oiled wagon that rolled silently behind him.

The walk wasn't far, and the graveyard was easy to get into. Danville was a safe little town, a place with minimal security because it was all they found necessary. The gates weren't even locked - just latched shut.

The shovel clanged against tombstones as Phineas passed them, no longer worried about being heard because he knew no one watched the graveyard at night. He had done his research before arriving and was able to navigate his way through as though he owned the place.

The dirt was still uneven and soft over Ferb's grave. Phineas tested it with a prod of his foot, then dropped the handle of the wagon and plunged the shovel deep into the ground.

Unearthing the coffin was not easy work. The hole had been filled by _machines,_ and Phineas, weak in his grief and never very tough to begin with, was largely inferior. This did not deter him. His family was occupied with their own sadness, and in the shadows of the night he saw no passing cars or wandering teenagers. He had all the time in the world... or at least until the sun came up. And this was, of course, a matter of time; if he waited too long, this plans would be for naught.

"I told them I could fix you," he said to himself as he worked. "I was hysterical, sure, but I wasn't _lying._ What kind of brother would I be to let this be the end of everything?"

The night offered no response. After years of being Ferb's constant companion, he hadn't expected one anyway.

Phineas could hear owls hooting in the distance, and it gave him confidence; being silent and intelligent, they had always reminded him of his brother. They were so mysterious and untouchable... but _he_ had been able to touch one. And soon, he would touch his amazing bird of prey again.

His arms ached more and more with each passing hour. Blisters formed on his fingers, became ugly bubbles that popped and smeared blood all over the shovel's wooden handle. Phineas paid no mind to any of this. Pain was only a distraction.

And in the end, despite the aches and blood and _exhaustion_ , he still managed to pry open the coffin all by himself.

The sight within almost took his breath away.

"Oh, Ferb... _Look_ at you... we have a lot of work to do, don't we?"

He touched Ferb's face with one bloody, filthy hand, his fingers tracing the stitches that kept the left eye closed. That wouldn't do. He needed _two_ functional eyes. Not to mention two functional arms and legs...

"It's gonna be a long few weeks, huh pal?" Phineas asked with a little laugh. The pallid corpse offered no reply. Again, he hadn't really expected one.

While he wasn't very wide or toned, Ferb _was_ tall, and he had a lot of mass to him. Phineas struggled a bit with the weight but managed to get both of them out of the hole in due time. With the utmost care he placed Ferb in the wagon, and then he returned to the grave and began to shovel the dirt back in.

"This will be easier," he said with an excited grin. "It's _much_ less taxing putting the dirt back in. Especially knowing I have you _back!_ I swear, Ferb, I could lift _cars_ right now. I can't believe this is happening. You've been gone too long..."

A crow shrieked somewhere in the trees.

"Of course, you're not _quite_ back yet," Phineas went on in a conversational tone. "I have a lot of things to fix. But don't you worry, Ferb-meister, you'll be back on your feet in no time!"

He turned from his task to look at Ferb's body, a small frown tugging at his lips. Then he returned to the grave. "Of course, you'll need a new foot first..."

The bloated clouds above could stand it no longer. As Phineas spoke to his brother, the first few flecks of water splattered down, and in no time at all it had become a torrential downpour that turned the new grave into mud. Never one to dwell on the negatives, Phineas patted down what he'd managed to get back in before turning to the wagon and sighing in mild annoyance.

"Time to go, dude," he said. "You smell bad enough as it is. Don't want you out _here_." He clucked his tongue, then pulled the hood of his rain slicker over his head and grabbed the handle of the wagon. The wheels stuck in the mud a few times on the way out, but Phineas always managed to get it free.

The shovel clanged against the tombstones the same as before. It was almost an eerie melody, the song of _going home._

Phineas whistled as he walked.


	4. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes love overcomes terror.

It had been swift.

Time passed; how much, or how little, was unknown to him. Most things were unknown to him. He became a shadow on the fringes of the universe, a lone consciousness drifting through the nether with neither shape nor memory. What happened in that time may as well have only been a dream. He had dreamed the nothing, and now...

He was _awake_ again. Only instead of being in his bed, he was somewhere darker, somewhere smaller, somewhere filled with machines and wires... That couldn't be right. None of this was right. With growing alarm he remembered where he had been, remembered that he had _not_ slept, that he had been in the belly of a metal beast -

Someone else was there. They were silhouetted by the lights, a shadow of a person, yet their form was unmistakable even for its subtle changes. The longer hair. The apron.

"...Phineas...?"

And Phineas _smiled_ at him, smiled like his voice was the greatest thing to hear, as if all was right in the world and this strange place was just a humble part of the scenery. Phineas's fingers, so light on his cheek, radiated warmth - was he _that_ cold? He couldn't tell.

"Welcome back, Ferb."

Ferb. Yes, his name was Ferb. And he had gone away.

"Back?" He said it slowly, testing it on his tongue, which felt like a lump of dead meat between his teeth. Everything was so _dry._ Even the air felt alive with electricity. _Alive,_ but also dead, dead and dry and rotting.

Ferb put a hand to his aching head and sighed.

Phineas moved away from him, but was back in an instant, his fingers spidering their way to Ferb's throat.

"Yes, back," said Phineas, still smiling as though this were the happiest day on earth. "You've been out for a while. I thought... Well, never mind what I thought. You're back now."

The ache in Ferb's head subsided, and as he pulled his hand away, he saw the stitches along his forearm and over his wrist, knew then that what he remembered had been true. The sculpture they were building (a platypus, of course, everything was platypuses with them) had fallen, had sliced open his arm and who knew what else.

Phineas would know, though.

"Is that better?" Phineas asked as he drew away, a thick cable in his hand. "Your head was hurting, right? I'm sorry about that, I should have shut off the switch as soon as you... Never mind. How do you feel?"

There were heavy bags under his eyes, and his _hair_... Ferb knew it was shorter last he saw it. He knew that beautiful boy like the back of his own hand, only _better,_ because it was Phineas. Time had passed and he had known that, but how _much_ time? Had he been in the hospital, that would be one thing, but he was _here..._

Ferb raised his arm again and inspected the stitches. His vision seemed better; he could make out the very fibers if he focused hard enough. Phineas had done them, surely... And this building was probably the shed. Phineas had taken his unconscious body into the shed and treated his wounds.

"You didn't take me to a hospital."

Phineas surprised him by laughing.

"A hospital? Oh, no. I mean, the ambulance came, and they treated _me_ because I tore myself up looking for you..." Phineas shook his head and looked away, to the windows. Unease blossomed in Ferb's stomach as he realized they were boarded up.

"Check out your _other_ arm," Phineas said. "Then maybe you'll figure it out. I know you like to do that, make things out by yourself."

Of course he knew that. Ferb offered his brother a small smile, then lifted his right arm - only it didn't really _lift._ It was more like a slice through the air, and then it was still, gleaming in the lights above in an almost picturesque way.

It was _gleaming._

Because it was completely _metal._

Ferb quickly sat up on the table, his arm flexing and twisting effortlessly before his eyes. He clenched his fist and found that he could feel his fingers in his palm as though they were still made of flesh... Only he could feel the metal, too, and it was smooth and cold and not human at all.

As he considered this modification, Ferb realized how much _heavier_ his body felt. Not only at the shoulder, but within his body, in his gut and his chest... The arm was not the only change.

Phineas's grin seemed much less endearing in the wake of this revelation.

"What happened to me, Phineas?" Ferb asked in a whisper. His throat was as dry as his tongue, and he rasped when he spoke. "Why is my arm like this? What did you _do?_ "

"Do you like it?" Phineas was practically bouncing in place, obviously brimming with excitement. "You have _no_ idea how hard it was to build without you. _Everything_ was hard. It took me an entire month! Can you believe that? And I was working nonstop, too!" His hands were moving now; he was really into his spiel, like he had been waiting to talk for ages. "I mean I didn't realize how much I _couldn't_ do in a day before! I never really had to think about it, but then there I was, working on the _same thing_ more than _once_. I mean -"

"Phineas!"

He stopped abruptly, all focus on Ferb.

"What were you even _doing?_ What _happened_ to me?"

Ferb hated when he had to ask questions. Judging by the look on Phineas's face, the feeling was more or less mutual.

"You... You remember, don't you? The scrap sculpture?"

Ferb sighed and brought his right hand up to his forehead. Against skin, the metal was absolutely _frigid_. "Of course I do. It fell, didn't it? On top of me? What happened to me _after_ that, Phineas? Why wasn't I in a hospital? What all did you _do?_ "

"Well, what do you _think_ happened?"

Ferb attempted to narrow his eyes and was surprised by a small, barely noticeable vibration from his left eye. He lifted his hand to feel it, then jerked it back in surprise.

Glass.

His eye was glass.

And within the glass would no doubt be more mechanics, with wires that went to his _brain,_ implying that Phineas had opened his entire _head_ -

"The metal tore you to shreds, dude."

Ferb returned his attention to Phineas, his organic eye opened wide. Phineas was smiling even more now. _Grinning,_ in fact.

"But I fixed it. I fixed everything. I told them I could, Ferb, I told them nothing would keep us apart."

Ferb shook his head, trying his best to deny what was becoming more and more clear, what he was sure could not be _possible -_

"Not even death."

* * *

A heavy and unforgiving rain had begun to fall on Danville. Most residents had long ago sheltered themselves inside, leaving only the few stragglers unlucky enough to be forced outdoors by their obligations.

As the torrent cascaded down and turned the dirt into mud beneath the grand oak tree of miracles, Perry the platypus quietly thanked evolution for giving him a watertight coat.

His place beneath the tree was a constant reminder of what had been lost, but he remained out of a faithful duty to his remaining child, who so rarely came in long enough for indoors to be sufficient. Perry's first and foremost concern was always his boys; his own feelings, and the current weather, were irrelevant.

Not that Phineas ever really came out of the shed either. Not while Perry was awake, anyway. He was always locked away behind that horrible metal door, messing with things so important that he seemed to neglect all of his basic functions rather than leave it be. None of it sat very well with Perry. He regretted never setting up an escape tunnel in the shed, which he would have willingly crawled through in order to see what Phineas was up to. The door, being the only realistic option, was much too heavy for him to move on his own.

For the thousandth time that day, Perry lifted his head and looked towards the building with a longing sigh. He wondered, for the first time, if he could coerce Heinz into opening the door for him. He probably could. Perry knew that. Heinz would be more than willing to follow him and help out, would be _happy_ to do anything that might repair their fractured relationship.

Perry just couldn't find it within himself to actually make it happen.

Having Heinz at the funeral was one thing; bringing him home was entirely another. Now, more than ever, Perry wanted to keep his nemesis at arm's length. Knowing he was sorry wasn't enough. The one time Monogram had even suggested he go out and stop Heinz, "to clear his mind," Perry instantly had flashbacks of the very moment that horrid machine had fired. Seeing the man who made it wasn't at the top of his to-do list.

Still... He wished he could go through that door. Phineas could be doing _anything,_ and if he got hurt, who would know? Perry couldn't lose _another_ child. The first was bad enough. Oh, to come home to the deafening wail of sirens... to see the _body bag..._ It was the worst day of Perry's entire life.

Tears sprung to his eyes as he thought about it, and he covered his face with his paws. He had cried _so much_ in the past month. Each day was more of a struggle than the last. Even after so much time had passed, he still found himself thinking Ferb might just walk out of the house and come give him a pet. He had to be there somewhere; one does not just _vanish._

But Ferb _hadn't_ vanished. He had been in the body bag, and later, in the coffin. Perry knew this. He had seen these things with his own eyes, had heard his family speak, had known their suffering without ever being able to _show_ them that he _knew._

His breath started coming in gasps, and he knew he would start to sob soon; he was glad he was alone, and in the rain, so that no one could see.

Because he _had_ to keep his cover. If he blew it, he would never see them again, and that would be like losing _all_ of them. He had to maintain an air of domesticity lest he ruin his life even further. And besides, Phineas _needed_ him. Even if they barely had contact now, Perry was still the only one he interacted with at _all,_ and when he slept, it was Perry he held in his arms. This was _important._

And really, _he_ needed _Phineas_ , too. He needed _all_ of his family. Losing them because he showed too much emotion just wasn't worth it.

Anger replaced the sorrow as Perry pounded his fists into the mud. Damn the O.W.C.A. and their rules! They were the _only_ reason why he couldn't comfort his family like a _human!_ And still, they were also the reason why he even _existed,_ and to wish they had never been would be to wish himself away. If only they would just relax their rules a little. Phineas would believe any story they gave him! He could be made to think Perry was some one-of-a-kind government experiment! Phineas was trustworthy - they _knew_ he was! They had watched him grow up alongside Perry himself!

With a heavy sigh he sat up and stretched out his legs, massaging his knees as tears continued to drip from his bill. There was no use in being mad. He could do nothing, and he _knew_ he could do nothing. That was the beauty of the O.W.C.A., really; he was screwed with them and screwed without them.

"Perry?"

Alarmed, Perry fell onto his back and assumed a helpless stuck-turtle pose.

It was Candace who came to "free" him from the mud, and she surprised Perry by pulling him into an embrace. She was getting mud all over her nice sweater!

"Oh, Perry, what are you doing out here?" she asked as she pet his back. "You should be inside. And you probably need a bath..."

Perry pushed himself away from her and chattered. Though if he was honest with himself, a bath sounded _wonderful._

Candace laughed and cradled him in her arms. He realized then that she was on her knees, in the _mud,_ and was getting absolutely _drenched_ \- since when did she expend so much effort on _him?_

"I know you don't like baths, but you're filthy," she said. "Besides, wouldn't it be nice? Getting all clean and warm? I wouldn't mind a bath myself! Maybe I can wear my bathing suit and we can take one together."

Oh, that sounded so nice. Perry relaxed into Candace's grasp in the hopes that he might encourage her to do as planned.

Then he remembered the door.

Perry leapt from her arms and ran over to the shed, chattering as he went. Candace pushed herself to her feet and followed. He watched her as she walked, found himself amazed as ever by the swing of her hips. Even when depressed she walked with confidence. Becoming an adult looked good on her.

"You want in there?" Candace asked in a worried tone of voice. "I don't know, Perry... Phineas has been pretty clear about no one going in." She hesitated, then bit her lip. "I am worried about him, though... I bet you just wanna check on him, huh, Perry?"

He chattered in reply.

Candace leaned over to pick him up, and he allowed it, even relaxed in her grip right away. He could feel her shaking as she pet his head. Whether it was because of the rain or her anxiety, he wasn't sure.

She seemed hesitant as they stood before the door, and Perry could feel her heartbeat as it pounded out of control.

Then she raised her hand to knock.

* * *

"Everything is functioning properly. To be honest, I was expecting worse than that - but you always subvert expectations, huh, Ferb?"

Ferb remained silent as Phineas milled about behind him. The electric cables hooked into his back twitched momentarily, and he refrained from glancing back to see why. He was trying his hardest to pretend they didn't even exist.

Unfazed by the silence, Phineas went on. "Now, you mostly run on electricity, plus a little motor oil to keep everything running smoothly. But here's the neat part - you've _also_ got artificial blood! That one was a doozy to figure out, believe me. I wanted to just use oil, but keeping your skin alive just wasn't going to work out with that. You better start wearing sunscreen, because if you get skin cancer after all that work I went through, I'm gonna be pretty ticked."

He laughed at his own morbid joke, loud and clear and _happy._ Ferb remained silent, his fingers tightening on the edges of the table.

Phineas reappeared before him and looked into his eyes before scribbling his apparent findings on a clipboard. "Optic performing flawlessly... Organic _working..._ "

If he had seen any of the anger or pain in Ferb's eyes, he made no mention of it. Nothing in his body language suggested he had known. That was typical, really; Ferb hadn't expected any less.

As Phineas set down his clipboard on the counter and untied his thick butcher's apron, Ferb found himself falling into the familiar old habit of admiring his brother's body. Only this time, instead of being excited by what he saw, he was dismayed; the black sweater and jeans Phineas wore hung loosely off of his frame, which was significantly thinner than Ferb recalled it being.

The anger began to ebb as worry took its place.

"...Phineas?"

"Hm?" Phineas turned on his heel and stepped to Ferb's side, his hands already going for the cables. "Are you alright? Everything feeling okay?"

"Have you been eating?"

Phineas faltered and took a step back.

"Uh... no," he said as he busied himself with the clipboard again. "I haven't been doing a lot of things, actually... Sleeping, brushing my hair, changing my clothes... Bathing... I know that's gross."

Ferb frowned, his shoulders slumping under the unseen weight of his brother's health. Phineas noticed and turned away completely.

"It's _really gross,_ I know, I'm sorry. I... I'll take a shower tonight, promise. You don't have to -"

"Phineas."

They made brief eye contact, and then Phineas was looking at the floor. It wasn't often that he neglected himself, but it had happened in the past - it was always Ferb who reminded him to care for himself when things got hectic.

Now...

"You have to eat," said Ferb as he held out a hand. "And all of those other things. Aren't you hungry?"

Phineas took his hand and held it firmly, his eyes wandering up until they made contact again. "I... I know. I'm sorry. I _get_ hungry, I just... I had to finish this..."

"I know you did. It's finished now. Go eat."

The laugh that left Phineas was uplifting, and Ferb found himself relaxing as his brother squeezed his hand. "I will, I will! Don't have a cow, _Mom._ "

Phineas was still giggling as Ferb rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away. It was all in good fun; he'd have punched Phineas if he weren't afraid it might shatter his entire body.

They were hugging before he knew it, and Ferb was more than happy to melt into the embrace, his metal arm tracing the contours of Phineas's body with new interest. The nerve endings worked so _well._

"I missed you," said Phineas as he pulled away. "A lot. I'm so glad you're back, Ferb."

Ferb opened his mouth to reply when there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, that must be Mom!" Phineas grinned and clapped his hands together, then ushered Ferb from the table. "I knew she'd come out here eventually - oh, she's gonna be so _excited!_ Wait until she sees your new eye!"

"Phineas, I'd rather not -"

Phineas was already heading for the door, leaving Ferb to back away into the shadows, praying he wouldn't be seen.

He hadn't even begun to consider the rest of the family. The day the strange machine landed in their backyard, the one they reverse engineered, their mother had gone completely crazy trying to get rid of it or get their father to see it; Ferb had always known she would have much the same reaction towards anything else of that nature, especially one he and Phineas built. _This..._ this was so much more than that in all the worst ways.

He had been _dead._

She couldn't see him revived.

When Phineas opened the door, it was not Mum standing there in the rain - it was Candace and Perry. Ferb's heart sank even lower as he pressed himself against the back wall. In the darkness, he could clearly see the blue glow emanating from his left eye reflecting off of the metal surfaces and cables around him.

"Candace! Hi!" Phineas put a hand on his sister's arm, then on Perry's head. "Oh, there you are, Perry! How are you guys?"

"Well, you're in a good mood," Candace said with a tired smile. "We were just checking on you. Perry was..."

Ferb stilled his body as much as he was physically able in a desperate attempt to become one with the wall. Still, she saw him, even made eye contact with him. Through the optic he could see the color drain from her face.

She turned her head until her eyes were back on Phineas. Her mouth opened, but for a few moments, there were no words.

"Phineas..."

"It's great, isn't it?" Phineas asked with a gleaming grin. "My best work yet. I _told_ you guys I could fix it, didn't I? You have to _trust_ me."

Candace shook her head slowly, her eyes drifting back to Ferb, locking onto him.

"What have you _done?_ "

* * *

Perry wondered how he had not known what was happening.

It all _fit._ All the hints and clues from the day it happened onward, all the little puzzle pieces picked up along the way, fit together to form a picture of _Ferb._ He was at the dead center of it all. That one cog that made the entire machine work.

And here he was.

Candace was shaking harder, and now Perry knew it was _definitely_ the anxiety. She had every right to be upset. What she was seeing was right out of a horror film, a monstrosity cobbled together from pieces of her dead brother. His face was gouged and scarred, his right arm a metal skeleton, his left a stitched gray mess...

But in the remaining eye, Perry could see _Ferb._ And that was all that really mattered.

He jumped down from Candace's arms and looked up to her, pleased to have her attention for just long enough to toss his head in an indication for her to leave, get away from this mess. Perry would handle this. He had to.

Candace did not seem to wonder why he was suddenly acting in such a way; she only did as she was told and made her exit.

"Candace, where are you going? Are you going to get Mom?" Phineas waited for a reply and only got the back door slamming shut in response. He shrugged, then looked down to the ground and smiled.

"Hiya, Perry," he said. "You wanna say hi to Ferb?"

Perry looked at Phineas for a moment, then took a hesitant step towards the shadows in the back of the shed. They shifted in unease and attempted to back away from him, but there was no more room to back into.

Perry chattered to let his boy know it was alright.

The blue light on the left side of Ferb's face flickered, then dimmed as he sighed and closed his eye. Perry could tell he was afraid. Of course he was; who wouldn't be? Perry was scared too. Of a _lot_ of things. But he could still see his child in that eye, knew this was the same boy who had been alive only a month prior, the same boy he slept with every other night.

What Phineas had done... was abhorrent.

But Perry did not disagree with it.

Finally, Ferb knelt to the ground, one of his legs creaking as he did so; there was more metal than just his arm. Of course there was.

Ferb held out his arms, and Perry broke into a run and thudded against his chest.

"Perry!" Ferb said, laughing as Perry pawed at his neck and face and licked his nose. This was _absolutely_ Ferb, one-hundred percent. His boy. His precious baby boy who had been in that awful body bag, who they had hidden away in the coffin, who he never got to say _goodbye_ to - this was his boy.

"Somebody missed you," said Phineas from his spot by the door. "See, Ferb? You've got nothing to worry about."

Ferb held Perry up above his head and laughed again as Perry struggled to reach him. "If everyone thought like our platypus, the world would be a _much_ different place."

"That it would." Phineas approached them and sat down on the floor, cross-legged, so Ferb could pass Perry to him. Perry had so dearly missed being loved on by the both of them. He missed _them._ He missed their being together, missed everything they did and even the things they didn't do. There had never been one without the other, never been just a Phineas or a Ferb; it was _Phineas and Ferb,_ and it had been that way since they were four years old.

Fifteen years of love and imagination almost cut short by a stupid machine and a useless fight.

Ashamed of himself and overwhelmed by his emotions, Perry laid across Phineas's lap and buried his face in Ferb's offered hand.

They stayed that way for several blissful minutes, their silence broken only by Perry's occasional chatter when Ferb dared to stop petting his head. He would have been content to stay there for the rest of forever if he could. The world was back in balance and he was _happy._

"We should go see mom," Phineas said.

Perry lifted his head and frowned, but it went unnoticed between them.

"I... don't know about that." Ferb reached for the head that was no longer there, then set his hand on his lap. "I doubt she's going to take this well..."

Phineas shrugged and lifted Perry's tail before letting it drop back on his legs, an action with no real meaning behind it. "You can't live out here. It's gotta happen sooner or later, and I'm sure she'll be happy."

 _No, she won't,_ Perry thought, but he didn't otherwise object as he was lifted and carried to the door.

Ferb turned out to be waterproof; that was good to know. Perry wouldn't expect anything less from Phineas though.

He wondered, as they reached the back door, if he should have been more afraid.

* * *

"M-Mom... Mom, you have to... see what Ph-Phineas did..."

Linda tightened her grip on the wash cloth she held and exhaled hard through her nose. _Not now,_ she thought to herself, but the tears were already starting. She turned from the sink with some already trailing down her cheeks.

"Candace, no," she said, her voice as firm as she could manage. "Unless your brother has shot himself in the head, I don't want to hear it." It was harsh, and a bit gruesome; but in that moment, her head ringing with a thousand memories of _Mom, Mom, come see what Phineas and Ferb did!_ , it was all she could manage to say.

Upon closer inspection, Candace was shaking and pale, her gaze unfocused. For a moment, it crossed Linda's mind that perhaps Phineas _had_ shot himself, but then his voice broke through her thoughts and the idea was pushed away.

"Mom, guess what I did," he said, his voice chilling, filled with something she didn't want to admit was there.

A plate crashed to the kitchen floor and shattered into a thousand pieces in the ensuing silence. No one moved to clean it up.

"Hello, Mum," said Ferb.


	5. They Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're always being watched by someone.

In the dreary mid-afternoon of the most ambitious day of Phineas's life, he slept peacefully on his brother's bed, wrapped in a fluffy towel from the aftermath of a long-deserved bath. At his side was Perry, less at ease but sleeping nonetheless, his legs twitching as he chased after giant snails and clumsy scientists.

Ferb did not sleep. He had slept for far too long as it was.

Outside of their window he saw a torrential downpour even worse than that which he had awoken during. Since they had come inside, the storm had only intensified, and now it seemed to threaten the streets with flood or perhaps hail if it was cold enough. Through the shining blue optic on the left side of his face, Ferb saw each droplet hit the window one-by-one, and he followed their trails down to the sill before returning his gaze further outward. Danville was silent and desolate - much like his home.

He did not know where Candace and Linda had gone. He wasn't sure if they'd left at all. All he knew was that they were terrified of his very existence and had begun crying as soon as he and Phineas had gone upstairs. Oh, how they cried; he heard them from his place outside the bathroom door, listened in despair as they sobbed and wailed and grieved as though he had died all over again. To them, he _had,_ hadn't he? They didn't see Ferb when he walked inside. They saw his corpse, fresh from the grave.

A tear welled up and fell from his right eye, following the patterns the rain left on the window.

Life... had never been a simple endeavor. Not for him. Losing his mother at a tender young age did some harm, definitely; and there was nothing quite like moving from England to America at four years old. Many times throughout his childhood he had been glossed over on account of his quiet nature and the fact that his brother was so _out there_ that certainly _he_ did all the work, would get _all_ the credit. And of course there was the matter of developing feelings for said brother...

But he had powered through these things. Ferb was not one to be taken down easily, and he had found it within his ability to overcome the obstacles before him and live life to the fullest no matter what happened. At the end of the day he had been happy to just... _be._ To live in a world where he and his brother, his best friend in the whole world, could do as they pleased (within reason) and make the best of every day they had. _Carpe Diem_ was the motto to live by and it suited them well.

And yet...

Ferb turned away from the window and gazed at his sleeping brother. To Phineas, it _was_ in reason to do such a drastic thing. How ever could he seize the day without his trusty sidekick at hand? And the bond they shared... it was stronger than the hardest materials throughout the universe. Perhaps it would have been different had he slowly wasted away under the weight of a tremendous disease. It would have given Phineas time to come to terms with losing that bond, losing his other half. But the way it had happened? The sudden and gruesome end which Ferb found himself lucky to have no recollection of? No... the bond was too strong for that to be acceptable. Especially when Phineas had nature itself in his hands.

He had played God, and he had succeeded in doing so. To Phineas this was all that mattered.

Ferb raised a shaking hand to his face and rubbed his cheek. His fingers were chilling on his flesh - the metal hand. Another reminder of what he was. What he had _become_ to maintain the powerful force that was _Phineas and Ferb._

 _It should be easier than this_ , Ferb thought as he looked out the window once again. _We've done crazier things. Does it really matter that he brought me back from the_ _... From the_ _dead? I_ feel _the same, I almost_ look _the same - why should I be upset?_

Acknowledging this didn't make it go away. Maybe it was the weight in his head, the feeling of something foreign attached to his brain, that gave him such a sense of... _wrongness._ He could, in time, convince everyone else that this was alright, just another Phineas and Ferb thing. It wasn't an unfeasible task, especially not for the champion of the debate team. There was just... something _else_ , something _off_ about all of it.

He was not fully repaired. He was not a normal living being. Might his limbs begin to rot in time? Would the stitches come undone and release a hoard of flies that had started as maggots eating away at his flesh? And his mind - how could Phineas fully restore a _brain_ , something which shut off immediately in the case of death? Could the mechanical implants ever recreate nature's design _flawlessly?_

Ferb closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He was only hours beyond the moment in which he had taken his first struggling breaths. To so deeply consider the matters of his reanimation was... _exhausting_ , and frightening. For now, in the gloomy afternoon with the storm bearing down upon the world, what Ferb _knew_ was that nothing had gone too terribly amiss and Phineas's hard work appeared to have paid off.

And in the end... Phineas was happy. A little different, a little broken... but happy.

And wasn't that all that mattered?

* * *

"Sir? We have a problem."

Francis arched half of his single eyebrow and turned to face his intern of so many years. Carl stood in the doorway of the office, a few sheets of paper clutched in his hands, shaking enough so that Francis could hear them rattling together. This was actually rather alarming. From all his years working so close to the O.W.C.A., Carl had seen a great many things and even dealt with a few of them himself. Not much truly disturbed him anymore - at least, nothing pertaining to the agency.

"Doofenshmirtz?" Francis asked, but Carl shook his head.

"No, sir," he said, his voice regretful. For a moment he seemed to consider his options, and then he took a few hesitant steps closer, holding the papers a little further away from his chest but not outright offering them. "It's... it's the Flynn-Fletcher family."

The Flynn-Fletchers. Agent P's family. Francis felt his heart drop, and for a moment he was certain that another one had died - probably the remaining son. A tragic suicide.

"Has there been another... accident?" he asked.

Carl took a shaking breath. The papers crinkled under his grip, still rattling in his hands. "Ah... no, sir. Not exactly." He began to hold the papers out again, then seemed to reconsider and brought them close to his face. Francis watched as Carl straightened his glasses and cleared his throat.

"This is a report from Agent S, the squirrel," he began. "She says she was passing through Agent P's neighborhood when she saw him in his backyard. She says..." He swallowed hard. "...She says she saw his owners, too. The boys. B-both of them."

Francis lowered his considerable brow into a look of confusion. "That's impossible."

"I know, sir."

Both men went silent as Francis tried to process this information. In this distance, there were the general sounds of the rest of the agency; dozens of animals made their respective noises as they conversed with one another and did their office work. It always sounded like an exotic farm around lunchtime.

Francis straightened up and let out a heavy breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Carl, go contact Wanda. One of her agents lives across the street from Agent P. Ask her to have him investigate. I'm sure Agent S is certain of what she saw, but I need more concrete evidence than just her word."

Carl shifted his weight in obvious discomfort and glanced down at the floor. "Ah... sir? Shouldn't we get in contact with Agent P?"

To this, the Major frowned and shook his head before returning his attention to his computer. "If he planned on telling us about this, he already would have, Carl. Let's leave him be for now."

"You think he would keep something like this from us?"

Carl had never really had the chance to be more than an intern, and he had never really aspired for it either. He was comfortable filing papers and handling complaints and taking care of all the work his boss didn't feel like dealing with. Even so, over time he had begun to become more and more of an integral part of the entire operation, and now he said things like "us" instead of "you" when referring to agency superiors. He didn't mean to, of course, as he knew he was a rather low-ranking individual and certainly nowhere near as important as his boss. Francis, however, had never really stopped him, even though he noticed it almost every time. There was no reason to - Agent P and all the others they dealt with usually worked with both of them and answered to both of them. And a little part of him sort of liked the idea of he and Carl being a team.

"I think he regards his family with more importance than his job," Francis said with a deep sigh "You remember the alternate dimension thing, don't you? He risked not _only_ his relationship with them, but his own life, just to keep those two kids safe. If one of them was just brought back from the dead he isn't going to jeopardize it by telling us."

Carl flinched at the mention of the gruesome possibility. "Well, for his sake and ours, I sure hope Agent S was just confused," he said. "I can deal with a lot of things, but _zombies?_ That's taking it way too far."

It was strange, really, how much they dealt with in this business - but there had never been anything so _upsetting_ as the reanimation of the dead, not even from any of the many evildoers they dealt with. Of course, the very idea was considered impossible by most; for the hundredth time in his career, Francis had to truly ponder the astonishing abilities of the boys Agent P loved so dearly.

"I couldn't agree more, Carl," Francis replied. "Now go talk to Wanda. We need a confirmation as soon as possible to plan any course of action."

"I'm on it, sir."

The door creaked shut behind Carl, and Francis returned his attention to his monitor with another heavy sigh. He wasn't really sure what was worse - the situation that had just been revealed, or the email he had received from his son only a few hours before, which he had yet to respond to. Not that he wasn't thrilled about his boy proposing - he'd always looked forward to the day Monty got married - but the entire "in love with Vanessa Doofenshmirtz" thing always made his head hurt.

Thinking about it, Francis decided he would _much_ rather deal with zombies.

* * *

"I _heard_ him. I swear to God I did. He sounded _happy._ "

Pinky cracked one eye open and lifted his ears as Isabella strolled into the living room with her phone pressed hard against her ear. He lifted his head off of his paws as she passed, but she didn't acknowledge him, so after a moment he settled back down and let out a resigned sigh.

"No, Gretchen, I know what I heard," Isabella stressed as she turned on her heel and paced in front of the couch. "It was _Phineas._ I _swear_ it was him. I didn't hear what he was saying, but he was happy, and you _know_..." She trailed off as the phone emitted the faintest sounds of another voice.

Isabella's emotions had been very unstable for the past month. Pinky had picked up on this, as was his nature as a dog, and he knew what news had distressed her so thanks to the O.W.C.A. _Everyone_ had heard about it. Poor Perry...

Now, though, his owner's emotions had taken a turn - she was excited, but _anxious_ , and her patience seemed thin. Pinky remembered Phineas very well - wasn't he _always_ happy? Certainly his brother's death would have a negative effect upon him, but he seemed the type to bounce right back. Was it really such an event if his voice sounded joyful from across the street?

The little dog bounced a bit as Isabella threw herself down on the couch with a frustrated groan. He shot her a reproachful look, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'm _positive!_ One hundred percent positive! Fireside Girl's honor!" As if Gretchen could see her, Isabella raised a hand and placed it over her heart. "Something _happened_ , Gretchen. I don't know what it was, but maybe he's..."

She trailed off again, with more reluctance this time. Pinky cocked his ears and observed her expression with great care.

Whatever her friend said left her feeling uneasy, and Isabella crossed her legs and wrapped her free arm around her middle. "No, I... I don't think... I mean, if _you_ lost someone that close to you, you'd... you'd snap too, right? It doesn't mean he actually... lost his mind. He's _Phineas_ , that just couldn't happen."

 _You'd be surprised_ , Pinky thought with a roll of his eyes. Strong-willed, imaginative thinkers went crazy all the time. The O.W.C.A. was practically based on it.

As if on cue, his collar vibrated against his neck; the Admiral was summoning him to his lair. Pinky stood up and hopped off of the couch without so much as a glance from Isabella. He was used to it, really. Whenever she talked about Phineas her focus became _very_ narrow. Dogs understood that sort of thing. It was, after all, within their very genetic code to devote themselves to people single-mindedly. _Especially_ chihuahuas.

Once out of sight, Pinky stood on his hind legs and slapped his fedora on top of his head. With a quick rap of his knuckles he had a section of the wall opening to allow him inside, and once he'd stepped onto the tiny elevator within, the entrance sealed itself shut with no obvious indications it was even there.

Going on missions was always a breath of fresh air, at least for Pinky. He loved having the chance to foil Poofenplotz instead of lounging around the house all day. She was a challenge, a ruthless old hag who knew how to gain the upper hand on a tiny little dog. Proving himself in the face of such adversity made Pinky feel validated. He was not just a shaky little chihuahua; he was a _hero!_ Being an agent was, in his honest opinion, the best part of his life.

Well... that and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Once in his lair, Pinky jumped up to his seat and tried to still himself (to no avail, as usual). Admiral Acronym looked up from some papers she was holding, then set them down and cleared her throat.

"Agent P, I'm sending you out on a different sort of mission today," she said with a grave sort of urgency. "I've received word from Francis that there are some... unusual happenings across the street. Apparently, another agent believes she saw a walking corpse."

Pinky's eyes shot wide open. Over the past many years he had worked for the agency, he'd heard all manner of strange and daunting things... but _this_ was far beyond any of that. He prayed he'd misunderstood.

"According to the report, it appeared to be the deceased young man associated with Francis's agent," Wanda continued. No misunderstanding there. Pinky couldn't help the little whimper that escaped his throat, and his superior didn't miss it.

"I know, it's rather upsetting," she said. "But you were specifically requested because of your proximity to the matter. Head over there and see what you can find - and please, Agent P, try to keep yourself hidden. They didn't contact the platypus for a reason."

Of course... Pinky dreaded to think of the possibilities. A walking corpse? Protected by _Perry?_ Perhaps this job wasn't _always_ the best part of his life. And it wasn't like he was the best recon dog. Still, a mission was a mission; he gave the Admiral an affirmative bark to let her know he was on it despite his misgivings.

"Good luck, Agent P," she called after him as he bounded out of his lair.

The rain had yet to let up, much to Pinky's chagrin. He'd never really been much of a water dog. His ears always got sodden and heavy, and when his head was bigger than most of his body, weighing it down further was never very comfortable. But that was just another one of those things that came with the job. After all, Poofenplotz knew how much he detested water - she'd used it to her advantage _many_ times in the past.

At least it meant he would likely remain alone.

Pinky darted across the road, wrinkling his nose at the stink of wet asphalt and doing his best to avoid the puddles forming in the numerous potholes. Mayor Doofenshmirtz seemed to be dragging his feet on repairing the roads; not usual for him, but that wasn't Pinky's concern. Once he'd reached the sidewalk he'd all but forgotten the holes even existed.

The backyard seemed to be the best place to start. Pinky considered attempting to climb the fence, but previous attempts to do such a thing had almost always led to him flat on his back (with a few splinters to boot). Besides, he was a dog; one of the training courses involved digging! After sniffing around the base of the fence for a few moments, Pinky set to work on the sodden mud with all the strength his skinny legs could offer.

The yard was vacant and smelled only of wet wood and rain. Still, Pinky had expected as much, and after squeezing through the hole he'd dug he trotted further across the lawn and began a visual search for clues. His nose was his best asset during cases like this, but the rain had dampened much of what there was to be smelled, and he did pride himself on fairly competent eyesight.

Not that... there was really a lot to see. The grass under the tree was flattened a little, and the shed door was partially ajar, but for the most part the Flynn-Fletcher yard looked like it always had. What would zombie clues even look like? Discarded flesh? Dried blood? Pinky had seen a few scary movies with Isabella, but he'd never dealt with _actual_ zombies. Then again, this was only a recon mission - there might not even _be_ a zombie. Hopefully.

After sniffing at the flattened patch of grass and finding nothing worthy of note, Pinky turned and headed for the open door of the shed. It was dark inside, but the second he poked his head in he could clearly smell people, and that was all he really needed. A quick whiff revealed the fading presence of Perry, Phineas, the teen girl...

...and Ferb.

 _Oh no,_ Pinky thought with a shudder.

He backed out of the doorway and glanced up at the house with anxiety bubbling up in his gut. Now he recalled Isabella mentioning that she'd heard Phineas back here - had he sounded so happy because of _this?_ Because of whatever had left Ferb's scent so strong inside of their shed?

There was something in one of the upstairs windows, something with an eerie blue glow. It seemed to pierce the rain with its intensity, but whatever it was attached to was blurry and out of view.

They would want proof. A photo. Assurance that his nose wasn't just playing tricks.

Pinky whimpered to himself, then stood up on his hind legs and reached under his fedora for the convenient suction cups stashed within. He approached the house as he attached them to his front paws, and once they were secure, he jumped up onto the yellow siding and began the tedious climb upwards.

The thought occurred to Pinky that he really had no idea how this might end. Did the O.W.C.A. think this was an evil act, something they would need to shut down? Or was this more of a primal fear? Were they merely upset by the the thought that reanimation had occurred? The agency had seen a great many anomalies in their time... hell, their agents were intelligent animals! Was it even _possible_ for them to be disturbed by something so strange? Pinky thought so; bringing the dead back was... _horrifying_. There was a reason they made scary movies about it.

Moving upwards made the rain all but unbearable. The roof was useless; the wind was blowing right against the house, splashing dirty water into Pinky's eyes. He couldn't even wipe it away because he would fall if he did. If there wasn't at _least_ a treat for this, there was going to be one hell of a complaint form to answer to!

The sill of the window he'd seen the glow in wasn't easy to get onto. Lacking upper body strength, Pinky struggled for a good few minutes to drag himself up, still blinded and hopelessly weighed down by the rain soaking his fur. He wondered if the light was maybe nothing - just some sort of trinket or maybe an optical illusion. Then what? Would he have to find another window, or actually sneak inside? Had this involved Poofenplotz it'd be no trouble. _Perry's_ house, though...

The little dog finally managed to claw his way up and rip his paws from the suction cups to furiously wipe at his eyes. Unsatisfied, he then set his fedora aside and shook his entire body, which only provided minimal relief as the torrent kept coming down. At least it was out of his eyes. Now he could peer inside and see...

...a _very_ irritated looking platypus.

Pinky yelped and in surprise and jumped back, only just managing to keep himself from falling to the ground below. The pattering against the glass managed to mostly drown out the sound, but nothing could drown out that terrible glare. Unsure of what else to do, Pinky gave Perry a small wave, then attempted to sniff at the sill as though nothing were amiss and he usually made his way up to second-floor windows in the rain.

Perry tilted his head and jerked his beak at the fedora cast aside a few inches away.

Golly! How ever did that get there? As though Perry hadn't _obviously_ been watching him the entire time, Pinky kicked his hat away from the window and wagged his tail. He wasn't up to agent work, no sir. Just a little afternoon excursion to his neighbor's window. In the middle of a storm.

For a moment, Perry almost seemed prepared to accept this, but then his eyes narrowed into furious slits and Pinky felt a spike of dread stab his belly. If there was anyone worse to offend -

The little dog didn't even manage to finish this train of thought before Perry launched himself at the window, claws clacking against the glass menacingly. Pinky yelped in shock and scrambled backwards. As expected, he slipped off of the ledge and plummeted to the ground below, landing right on top of his discarded fedora.

After a quick check for broken bones, Pinky staggered to his feet and grabbed his hat in his teeth before running back to the fence in a daze. He didn't even glance back before diving into the hole he'd left and sprinting across the road.

* * *

Perry didn't remove his paws from the glass until Pinky was all the way out of their yard. He slid down slowly, still watching the hole in the fence, convinced for a few seconds that his coworker was sure to return.

But he didn't.

"Perry?"

The platypus turned away from the window to face Ferb, who had taken Perry's place beside Phineas a few minutes before. Phineas had thrown an arm over his brother's lap in his sleep, and in response Ferb had rested a hand on the back of Phineas's head. They almost looked as comfortable as they used to together... before all of _this_.

"Something out there?" Ferb asked in a low voice, his organic eye filled with concern. Perry could only offer a chatter in reply.

Pinky was looking for something. There was no telling if it was Ferb or not, but _someone_ in the O.W.C.A. had to have sensed some kind of disturbance in the Flynn-Fletcher house. And unlike the last time ten years ago, they hadn't had the presence of mind to try and send Perry away before investigating. Or perhaps they just... didn't feel as though they had the _time._ As if whatever was happening was suspected to become a very big problem very, _very_ soon.

Perry hopped down to the ground and made his way over to the door. Ferb sat up as if to follow, then rethought it and held Phineas closer instead.

Being an Agent was important to Perry, and he had no current plans to jeopardize it. But... this had to be taken care of. A simple recon mission was no reason for alarm, but what if it became something _more?_ What if they deemed Phineas or Ferb a _threat?_ Family always came first. Even if part of that family had been dead for a month.

Oh, curse the swift relay of information through the O.W.C.A.! Ferb had been reanimated only hours before and already there was someone sniffing around. It was the animal agents, of course, always able to hide in plain sight and see just about everything that ever happened. Being a fairly exotic creature, Perry wasn't used to that sort of thing, but the others... cats, dogs, birds, rodents... they were everywhere. There was never any sort of assurance that they might not be present in any given situation.

Perry stopped in the hallway, just about to put his fedora on, when he heard Linda at the base of the stairs. Her voice still sounded teary and afraid... he felt so awful for her. And for Candace. They were so horrified by this...

"And when your Father gets home? What then? How are we supposed to prepare him for this?"

Of course. Lawrence. Perry grimaced and twisted his hat in his hands. He felt it was his duty to protect this family from the awful things they were feeling... But dealing with the O.W.C.A. was more urgent. He had a better chance of keeping them out of this than he did with attempting to soothe his family. With a silent mental apology to Lawrence, Perry peeled back some of the wallpaper and slipped into the tube hidden there.


	6. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You do what you must to protect the ones you love.

It was dark inside of the tube. It went through the walls and down into the ground, then made a straight line to Perry's lair with artificial lights installed only at the end. He rocketed through it with the sensation of weightlessness... it was almost as though he was in space. A space with no stars. Blackness, nothingness... Was this what Ferb had experienced in the time before he returned? What _was_ death like, really?

Perry shot out of the tube and landed nimbly upon the ground, face contorted into a look of rage - but it was for naught. The screen was empty. All the lights, save the few activated as he entered, were off. He straightened up and dusted his hands together in disgust. The floor was filthy; he could feel grains of dirt under his back feet and stuck to his fur.

Maybe it would have been better to go directly to the O.W.C.A. instead of popping into his lair. Perry knew that his superiors rarely made an appearance unless he was about to be sent on a mission; otherwise, they were busy with their own things.

However... Perry placed a finger on his beak in thought. He had several ways of contacting them; surely he could get Monogram on-screen easily. It would be safer for the both of them. Were the conversation to go sour, Perry would do much less damage if alone. In the company of others he was more than likely to use his specialized agent training.

Perry lowered his hand, then turned his wrist so that the face of his watch was visible. An instant after he pressed a button on the side, a holographic Monogram was facing him, looking troubled and then surprised.

"Agent P!" he exclaimed.

Perry pointed to the monitor behind him.

"Oh, uh, alright," said Monogram. "Uh, Carl? Start up the video feed, Agent P wants to talk."

The massive screen flickered to life, and Monogram did his best to compose himself. Perry switched off the hologram and slowly walked over to his chair. Rather than taking a seat, he gripped the back, his grip so tight the fur on his knuckles separated.

"Thank you, Carl. Now, uh, what is it, Agent P? Did something happen? Is it Doofenshmirtz?"

Perry dug his claws into the cushion and narrowed his eyes.

The Major fidgeted in discomfort under Perry's gaze, then cleared his throat and attempted to look more professional. "I can't read your mind, you know. You're going to have to - "

Carl appeared in the frame, holding a piece of paper in one hand. "Uh, sir? This is from Wanda."

Monogram took the paper and read it over with great care. His expression went from annoyance to surprise, and then to worry. He handed the paper back to Carl and attempted to smile.

"Well then, it appears you... had a run in with the other Agent P, huh? The dog? Isn't that just..."

Perry chattered in obvious agitation and ripped a chunk of fabric off of his chair.

Monogram held his hands up in defense. "Alright, alright! Calm down, Agent P! You know exactly why we sent him out there. It was just for confirmation, we wanted to know if your owner really... well, you know. We didn't want to bother you."

Needing confirmation, though, implied that such an occurrence was of interest to the O.W.C.A. And if it was of interest to them... they planned to do something. It could be as innocent as monitoring the house, or it could be as devastating as trying to claim Ferb for themselves.

Perry needed to know their intentions as soon as possible. Without the proper vocal cords, however, he was left to glare at his boss until the man finally spit it out. Asking for things was never an easy endeavor and rarely ended the way he wanted it to. Being an intelligent animal was one thing, but being employed by creatures who spoke in a way he couldn't? It was hell.

Monogram heaved a sigh and rubbed his forehead as though his head ached. "Do you have any idea how serious this is? _Reanimation_ of the _dead?_ You're lucky the government hasn't gotten involved! They probably will! And heaven forbid Doof finds out..."

A defensive chatter left Perry's bill despite the fact that he knew it was unintelligible.

"Don't growl at me like that! _You're_ the one who fights the guy, you know exactly what sort of person he is! Don't you think he might have _interest_ in something like this?"

 _Not the point,_ Perry thought in anger. To redirect the conversation, he picked up a recent addition to his lair - a framed photo of the boys - and held it up towards the screen.

"Right, right." Monogram scratched his mustache and glanced off to the side, presumably in Carl's direction. "Look, we have to keep an eye on this, Agent P. If you promise to cooperate, you can be the one who reports back on... Ferb." He returned his gaze to Perry and lowered his voice. "I know how much these boys mean to you. Please understand where we're coming from."

Perry exhaled hard through his nostrils and looked down at the floor. Regular reports on Ferb's status... that was doable. In the past few hours, Ferb had been very much his normal self, if a bit more withdrawn and clingy. That would pass in time. As long as nothing else happened, even the reports would become unnecessary. And what else _could_ happen? Phineas was a master at what he did.

The platypus nodded in affirmation, and Monogram sighed in relief.

"Good. I'm, uh... I'm sorry we didn't come to you first, Agent P, we just didn't know..." He trailed off, then cleared his throat. "Well, be sure to keep track of what's going on. Doof hasn't been up to much lately, as you know, so you should have plenty of time to make sure everything is on the up and up."

Perry nodded again and offered the monitor a halfhearted salute. He could feel Monogram's eyes on his back as he turned to walk away, but he didn't look back to acknowledge the gaze.

In the silence following his departure, the screen remained on for a few moments, the solitary light in an otherwise dark lair.

"I've got a really bad feeling about, this, Carl."

"Me too, sir."

The screen clicked off, and the lair was plunged into darkness.


	7. Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember, it can always be worse.

Phineas awoke late in the evening, just long enough to greet his father when he came home from a long day at work. He was asleep again within the hour. He was exhausted, and now he was finally free from the duties which had kept him awake for so long; sleep came easy to him.

With his brother having relocated back to his own bed, Ferb found himself alone on top of the lavender sheets that once made him feel at ease, his head pounding in time with a ticking clock out in the hall. The only thing he could possibly do was _attempt_ to sleep. Otherwise the night would stretch on and on and on into infinity, and in the morning he would be lethargic and weak and no happier than before.

Unconsciousness crept up on him like the tendrils of blackness which had dragged him down into death. The room went dark as the orb shut off, and for a time the house was still and quiet as the whole family tried to sleep.

But in time the darkness gave way... and when it did, Ferb saw himself in his mind, saw what he could not possibly see. His own body strewn out on the grass... bones jutting up through flesh, muscle and tendons visible in lacerations and gaping wounds... his right arm mutilated, completely separated at the shoulder...

The horrific vision zoomed in on his face, on the long piece of metal jutting up from a bloody wound that had once been his eye. Except it was more than just his eye... it went all the way _through,_ poked out on the other side covered in brain matter and a sickly, pus-like liquid which quickly faded into blood.

It had pierced his brain.

From his eye to the back of his head.

_It went through his fucking brain._

Ferb awoke in hysterics. Phineas stirred on his bed, confused; Perry, who had been guarding the bedroom door, immediately jumped up in alarm.

He couldn't stop screaming. Sobbing. Pulling at his hair.There was a shaved patch he'd missed, crude stitches holding his flesh closed over the hole in his skull which was covered by a metal plate. He felt it under his scalp. He _felt_ it, and he cried harder.

The door flew open in moments and he was quickly engulfed in a soothing embrace accompanied by gentle shushing and soft words meant to chase the fear away.

"There there, son, it's alright, there's nothing to cry about."

But it couldn't go away. It was reality.

Phineas was talking, his voice filled with concern, but Ferb found that his words just slipped right out of his mind. Maybe it was his damaged brain. Maybe he was too scared to hear.

"Dad, I'm dead," he whispered.

"Nonsense," Lawrence replied, his voice as jovial as it had always been.

That's all it really was, wasn't it? Nonsense.

Phineas joined in the hug, but even his gentle touches couldn't stop the flow of tears... or the trickle of motor oil leaking from the orb's socket.

* * *

The rain lightened up during the night, and by morning it had stopped. Within just a few hours the sun had pierced through the sodden clouds and turned Danville back into the picture of a happy town it had always been... though much of that joyous spirit had been sapped out in the wake of the accident. There were many who hoped the next summer would bring some of the happiness back; until the time came, they could only wait and struggle to remain optimistic.

Of course, Phineas was happy already, but... well, he was _Phineas._

Ferb watched his excited sibling race across the yard, an over-sized yellow turtleneck billowing around his frame like a cape. He was like his old self - childlike and rambunctious, eager to seize the day and show off his imagination. Ferb would have found it more endearing were it not that _he_ was the product of said imagination.

Still... to see Phineas so happy... it never failed to make _him_ happy, too. At least a little.

"What about a song? You think we should sing a song?" Phineas asked in delight as he peered into the shed. "I bet your right hand could make some wicked sounds on a guitar!" He vanished into the shadows, then reemerged with a jug filled with dark liquid.

"What is that?" Ferb asked, preferring to avoid the topic of musical numbers.

"It's motor oil," Phineas replied as he beckoned Ferb towards the tree. "Keeps you running smoothly. This and a little electricity now and then should make you function great!"

"Oh, great," said Ferb with a sigh. "Am I supposed to drink it?"

"Nah, that'd just be messed up." Phineas laughed, seemingly unaware of the irony. "I put a tank in you. Turn around."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Ferb said with a groan as he turned his back to his brother. " _I put a tank in you_ is certainly better than what I was thinking."

"Is that sarcasm?"

"Yes, Phineas, it's sarcasm."

Phineas snorted and pulled Ferb's shirt up to expose his back. "Gosh, I thought you'd be _thankful._ Would you prefer I left you rotting in the ground?"

The sudden revulsion brought on by the comment conflicted with the pleasant tingle of Phineas's fingers on his skin, and Ferb chose to remain silent, unsure of how he could even respond.

"Not like I would," Phineas went on, his voice much quieter. "I can hardly handle a week without you. A _lifetime..._ I couldn't do it, dude." He let out a soft chuckle, then changed the subject as though it were nothing: "Now, about that song..."

There was something oddly erotic about being unlatched and opened; the realization made Ferb feel sick in an all new kind of way. He thanked the high heavens that his silence wouldn't be noticed or questioned. Phineas was free to ramble on, and Ferb could struggle to keep himself from throwing up or blowing a load in his pants.

 _You should have stayed dead, you twisted freak_ , he thought in his frustration.

It wasn't like he _meant_ to do this. Hell, as a child, Ferb only ever found himself infatuated with tall, shapely girls who could sing like angels! He went into puberty fully prepared for a wild sex drive and more attractions - but that was supposed to apply to _girls._ Though had he liked boys, too, that would have been fine. But he didn't like boys.

He liked _Phineas._

Ferb blamed the summer of Phineas's fifteenth birthday. It was the first summer they ever spent apart, and it wasn't all that bad until the day Ferb flew back home from England and came face-to-face with a deep-voiced, lanky teenager claiming to be his brother.

He certainly wasn't _feminine._ He looked nothing like the models in the magazines hidden under Ferb's bed. Even so, Ferb's enraged hormones latched onto Phineas, onto the way he spoke and the way he moved and every other stupid detail Isabella had been chirping about for years. He was hooked.

Death, it seemed, had done nothing to change this.

"I think I could start it off, then you come out with the guitar," Phineas said as he shook the last of the oil into the exposed tank. "I want to explain what's going on before the big reveal. And then - "

"How about we _don't_ do a song?" Ferb cut in. "It's not really... appropriate." He just barely managed to maintain his composure as the panel on his back was pushed shut. Phineas, predictably, didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"You think so?" he asked , his voice almost dejected "I figured it would make things easier. Lessen the impact, I guess. But if you don't think it's a good idea..." He trailed off, uncertain, then pulled Ferb's shirt back down and gently smoothed the fabric with shaking fingers.

Nothing could lessen the blow of this news. Ferb knew that, was absolutely certain of it. This was not the typical shenanigans of the boys in the backyard. This was... this was _beyond_ that. If their friends came to accept it, it wouldn't be because of a poppy tune.

As Phineas moved to put the jug back in the shed, Perry emerged from the house and began to make his way across the back lawn. He looked tired and beaten... nothing like the wall-eyed creature Ferb was accustomed to. Still, as the years had gone by, Perry seemed to become less and less _domestic_ , and more... human. Just a little bit. Phineas had speculated that it was because of constant exposure to their inventions. Maybe that was it - maybe they'd inadvertently granted him some form of higher intelligence.

"Hey Perry," Ferb said as the lethargic platypus approached him. He was offered a chatter in reply, and then Perry curled up at the base of the tree and let out a heavy sigh. Ferb couldn't help but smile; it appeared their beloved pet just wanted to be close to them for the day.

Phineas returned from the shed with a cell phone in his hand. "I'm gonna go ahead and call Isabella now," he said with a wide grin. "Just wait until everyone sees you again! I bet they'll be just as happy as Dad was!"

Ferb rubbed the back of his neck and looked away as his brother dialed the familiar number he'd typed in a thousand times before.

The voice on the other end was shocked and ecstatic all at once. Phineas laughed at the greeting, then offered his own: "Hey, Isabella! How are you?"

She was fine, but how was he? Where had he been, what had he done? He sounded happy - why? That was great, of course, him being happy, but... after what happened...

Ferb heard all of this despite his distance from the phone. He wasn't sure if it was because Isabella was loud, or his ears had somehow been improved. And yet... he found that the words she said, and their meaning, quickly left his mind if he didn't focus on them.

"I'll explain everything later," Phineas assured. "For now, I want you to get Buford and Baljeet and meet me in the backyard. I've got something _really_ important to show you." Again, her voice came through the speaker, hurried and confused - but he didn't give her time to speak. "No time, Iz. I've got preparations to make. See you in a few!"

"Preparations?" Ferb asked, nervousness bubbling up in his gut.

Phineas shut his phone and slipped it into his pocket before turning to his brother with a smile. "It's nothing much, I just didn't want her asking too many questions. I've never really liked explaining things over the phone." He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he took a step forward and reached up to the wires that went from Ferb's chest to his throat.

"So far, everything seems to be in working order," Phineas said as he gave the wires a light squeeze.

"Do you have to touch me so much?" Ferb asked, his voice shaking.

The hands at his throat moved up to cup his face, and without looking, Ferb knew he was being given one of those cocky smirks his brother had become rather adept at.

"Dude, I'm the only one who knows how most of your systems work," Phineas said with a chuckle. "And even once I've taught you, you'll need me to do most of the handiwork since you're not quite as flexible as you used to be."

"Good to know."

Phineas laughed and patted Ferb's cheek before stepping back and allowing the sleeves of his sweater to cover his hands again. "Don't worry, _plenty_ of modifications are on their way. You're like a new game on release day. Great, but a little buggy, and all the expansion packs aren't out yet."

Ah, yes, gaming metaphors. Ferb rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Whatever you say, Phineas. The DLC better be worth the ten bucks I have to pay for it."

"That's the spirit," Phineas said, grinning again. "Now get inside the shed! I don't want to reveal you right away."

Going back inside was more uncomfortable than Ferb thought it would be. He was sure that the worst experience was waking up in that horrible place...but seeing it all again after a day of deep thought was somehow even more traumatic, perhaps because of how much he noticed this time around. The day before he had been too scared and angry to really take a look around. He'd missed the preservation tank in the corner, filled with green goop; he'd missed the surgical instruments under the table, some still stained with blood; and perhaps worst of all, he'd missed the red wagon backed into the shadows, still caked with dirt. The shovel alongside it gave no room for doubt over its use.

This was reality. In the night, there was the dream; now, there was the shed. Ferb knew he was looking at the evidence of his unholy resurrection even as he struggled to push it out of his mind. It was easier to just let it _be_ , to focus on the _cyborg_ part and not the _zombie_ part. Yet here it was. The dirt, the blood, the tank. He was dead.

Ferb sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Alright, no need to panic; that would certainly make this meet-up harder than it needed to be. All he had to do was turn around and peer outside through the slightly-cracked doorway. Watching Phineas and Perry was much easier than looking at all of... _that_.

It only took a few minutes for Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet to show up. They all seemed worried, and upon seeing Phineas, Isabella broke into a run and embraced him with all the strength she could muster. Ferb hoped she might do the same for him, but he wasn't counting on it.

"Oh god, Phineas, you look awful!" she cried after she'd pulled away. "Look at you! Have you been eating? Or _sleeping?_ And when was the last time you got a haircut?"

Phineas laughed and took Isabella's hands in his own. Ferb felt his stomach churn in an unpleasant sort of way, but he forced it away, knew it wasn't the issue at hand.

"I've seen better days, I guess," Phineas said. "Thanks for coming."

Buford was the next to speak up, and he spoke in a tone that was surprisingly gentle for him, but understandable because of the circumstances. "How are ya, pal?"

"Never been better," Phineas replied with a smile. "Ever since the funeral I've been working on making life as good as it used to be, and I definitely succeeded."

The trio shared some uncomfortable looks, and Ferb sympathized with them. Hearing that sort of thing from such a crazy little genius wasn't exactly uplifting. Oh, but they had no idea what it meant yet...

Isabella squeezed Phineas's hands and looked into his eyes. Ferb couldn't see his brother's face from the angle he was at, but he knew the look well: blank happiness. No surprise, no anxiety, no embarrassment or fear; just that same old smile under those dark blue eyes.

"Phineas, we're worried about you," Isabella stressed as she searched his gaze for any sort of understanding. "It's been... at least a month. And we don't know where you've been, what you've been doing... please tell me you haven't done anything drastic. _Please_. This was the worst thing any of us have ever been through, and it still hurts, but... I just want us to try and be normal again. Is there any chance we can do that?"

Baljeet and Buford were stationed right behind her as though they expected the worst. Ferb admired that, admired _them_ ; over the years, as they grew closer to one another, they also seemed to gravitate towards Isabella. They listened when she talked and followed her when the amazing P 'n' F were busy with their own thing. She was strong and smart and always capable of helping herself... but now, in the wake of the tragedy, they stood behind her like protective brothers. Buford, a great brick wall of a young man, looked the part; it was Baljeet, short and skinny as he was, who seemed out of place. Yet there was no denying the fire in his eyes. If something happened... if her emotions got too strong, if Phineas did something awful... he would be there. They would _both_ be there.

Ferb could see the grin on Phineas's face well enough as he spoke. "Oh, going back to normal is exactly what I was going for. Status quo is God, Iz, we all know that. I wasn't going to let all of this happen without trying to fix it."

He let go of her hands and backed away towards the shed. When he stopped, he was still far enough away for Ferb to be able to see around him, and he noticed that the formerly sleeping platypus at the base of the tree was now watching the group with an intent look in his eyes.

"We've done some amazing things in the past, things that defy the very logic of nature," Phineas went on, his voice taking on a more sinister tone that he probably didn't even notice. "I realized a long time ago that I could do anything I set my mind to if I tried hard enough - anything at all."

It was Baljeet who cut in this time. "Um, Phineas... just so we are clear... You have not built something like a robot of your brother, have you?" He worry seemed genuine, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he spoke. "Not that it would not be an amazing invention... but replacing him is no better than having lost him."

Phineas laughed.

It wasn't the happy sound that make Ferb's heart soar; it was the laugh from the previous day, the terrifying chortle of someone who was not entirely there. All three of their friends seemed to flinch back in response, and Ferb had done the same. Only Perry remained stationary. He almost acted as though he were used to it.

"Oh, it's better than that, Baljeet. _So_ much better."

The shed door was flung wide open, creaking on its aging hinges before coming to a stop. The sunlight which pierced the damp clouds cast a sickly light upon the object of interest, who shielded his eyes for a moment before lowering his arms back down to his sides.

They looked at him much the same way Candace had. There was horror, and disgust, and confusion... it seemed almost impossible to even process such a thing. They could, though. This was just the sort of thing within Phineas's power. This was just the sort of thing he'd be willing to do. It was, in a way, the worst case scenario they had feared - they never knew quite what said scenario would be, but they knew it would be _drastic_.

And now... here they were.

"Everyone, for the second time, I would like you to meet Ferb Fletcher," Phineas said. Ferb stood still as his brother moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "His brain has been repaired with computer technology the likes of which most people can only _dream_ of. All robot limbs are fully functional, if a bit... well, _robotic_. But I'm working on synthetic skin covers. All the organs are working properly, his trachea has been mostly repaired... show 'em, Ferb!"

They were still staring. Isabella looked like she might scream at any moment; Baljeet seemed unsteady and nauseous. Buford, of course, was trying to put on some kind of brave face, but it was obvious that he was just as upset by this turn of events.

"Hello," Ferb said with a small wave of his metal hand.

They were all silent, still absorbing the news, taking in the sight before them; Ferb was sure one of them would soon begin to scream.

But then Isabella smiled.

It wasn't a bright, cheery smile; it was shakier than that, with much less conviction behind it, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Oh, Phineas," said said as she stepped forward. "Oh... I can't believe it... You brought him _back..."_ She reached a hand out, as if to touch one of them, then pulled it back and held it close to her chest. "How...?"

 _How indeed,_ Ferb though as Phineas moved closer to Isabella and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"With science and conviction," he said with a smile. "How else? I can share the details with you later, but for now, I just want you guys to know... This is it. This is where I've been." Phineas gestured to Ferb with pride, then shook Isabella a little. "What do you think?"

Anxiety tickled at the corners of Ferb's mind, and with it came hints of blackness, the shadows of his death come to haunt him. He shook his head and tried to focus on the matter at hand. He hated being on the spot...

"He seems very... Not human," said Baljeet.

"Can he talk?" asked Buford.

"He said hello, Buford."

"Yeah, but can he say more? Is he just programmed with words 'n' phrases? Is he still... Ferb?"

Phineas opened his mouth to answer, but it was Isabella who spoke, her voice soft but filled with sadness. "Oh, he can't even go out in public... He's Frankenstein's monster..."

Phineas frowned and removed his arm from her shoulders. "He's not a _monster,_ Isabella. He's Ferb. And yes, he can talk. Everything is fine now! We can go back to normal, just like you guys wanted."

The blackness was relentless, and Ferb put a hand to his forehead and tried his best to drown it out. Why did they all have to focus on him? Why did Phineas want this so much? Couldn't they have kept it a secret until he _didn't_ look like a monster?

"Phineas, don't you see?" Isabella took Phineas by the shoulders and gave him a shake. "It's wonderful that you did this... It's amazing! But you're not planning on actually taking him out, are you? The way people would react..."

"Maybe they'll just think it's a costume," Buford offered.

"That arm is too real," Isabella said. "And everyone in this town knows he's dead. How do you think they'll respond?"

"Like they've responded to anything else we've done. Happiness and joy." Phineas attempted to remove Isabella's hands, but she gripped him tighter and gave him another shake.

 _Stop,_ Ferb thought. His mouth didn't seem to want to move.

"This is different," Isabella said with urgency. "I'm proud of you, Phineas, I really am, but you have to keep this on the down-low. Who knows what kind of people or attention this will attract?"

Ferb closed his eyes and tried to take a few steadying breaths.

"He's fine, Isabella! I have this under control! Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

If he could just calm down... Maybe chime in to the conversation...

" _Look_ at him, Phineas! Half his body is made of _metal!_ Not to mention that he's - he's _dead,_ Phineas! And people _know_ that!"

_Just calm down..._

"Who cares what people know?! I fixed him! I _said_ I would fix him! You're happy, aren't you? They will be too! I did what no one else could ever do! I made a _miracle_ happen! I'm practically a _God_ here!"

She was shaking him again - trying to speak sense to him, trying to _make_ sense - but her words just went in and out, and Ferb couldn't hold onto them. The darkness surrounded him, fogged his brain... then it dragged him under, back into the nothingness.

* * *

The last thing Isabella wanted was to fight with Phineas. Normally, it wasn't something that had any chance of happening; he wasn't really a fighter. This was different, though, and he wasn't seeing things for what they were. Isabella had to admit he had done an amazing job, and it really was within his realm of power, but he was insane to think Ferb was fit for the outside world! Poor Ferb was barely even fit for this _conversation,_ the way he was swaying and lowering his head.

This was nothing like how she'd expected they'd meet again. Isabella had thought about it many times, had finally assumed Phineas would just show up at school again someday; this was what she had resigned herself to. What she was seeing now... It was _far_ more grand than her expectations. She was truly blown away by Phineas's abilities, especially without Ferb's help.

But speaking of Ferb's help... Why wasn't he saying anything? Didn't he agree with her? He was smart, and would surely feel the same way - his body wasn't ready for the public eye. People would never accept it. But maybe in a few months' time... They could always say he'd secretly been in a coma the whole time, or some other crazy conspiracy...

"I'm sure Ferb will agree -" she began to say, but that was when he began to move, and before Isabella could even let go of Phineas, she was face-to-face with metal knuckles drawing back to send her flying.

It was Buford who jumped in front of her and took the blow, and the both of them tumbled to the ground at Baljeet's feet. Isabella could barely get her bearings as everything became a flurry of motion. She pushed herself up to her knees as Buford was already on his feet, and for a moment she saw Ferb's face - blank and emotionless as always. But no... His eye, the one that was left, the one that had been filled with emotion a few minutes ago - it stared straight forward as though it saw nothing. Just like after Phineas had dragged him from the scrap.

And then there was blood. It was Buford's, gushing from his nose; and then Baljeet's as he tried to cut in, and Isabella could only scramble back across the grass - was that _her_ screaming she was hearing? She looked to Phineas for guidance, just as she always did... but he was blank, staring at the fight with nary a worry in his eyes. The boy she loved so dearly was nowhere in sight.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over; it was Perry who sprang into action, his back leg colliding with the center of Ferb's chest, sending the unexpected monstrosity down to the ground. Isabella didn't fully see what happened - she was still trying to keep herself away from those horrible metal limbs - but surely Phineas had seen. He knew what happened, yet stayed calm as he approached his brother and the shaking platypus on top of him.

"Buford!" Isabella cried as she scrambled to her feet. "Baljeet! Are you okay?"

They were not okay. They too had fallen, bleeding, and Baljeet could barely keep his eyes open. It was Candace who arrived outside in the aftermath of the chaos, her cellphone in hand and already calling 911. She asked if they were okay, too. Isabella was crying by then - she could hardly answer a thing.

In the time it took for Candace to arrive, Phineas had vanished along with Ferb and Perry. Isabella was certain this had to be some kind of dream. In what real world would Phineas leave his friends like this?

The sirens were deafening, he same as they had been a month before.

* * *

The clouds had finally left the sky, and the sun was free to shine down upon the earth with all its might. For once in his life, Phineas detested this, and he closed the curtains before setting about with his business.

Ferb had not let go of Perry since he'd become conscious again. He sat on the edge of his bed, legs pulled up to his chest, platypus nestled against his collarbones and held there by shaking hands. Perry didn't seem to mind; in fact, he seemed grateful for it. Phineas knew he wasn't going to be able to part them for the time being. He didn't blame them, either. A hug sounded really nice after all that had happened.

He approached his brother with a wet rag in hand. "Let me see your right arm," he said. "I need to get the blood off."

"What's wrong with me?" Ferb whispered as he held out his hand. "I... I didn't... I don't even remember what happened..."

"You know what the human brain is like, Ferb," Phineas replied as he began scrubbing the tainted metal. "I did my best, honestly, but even the best computer is bound to have some glitches. Looks like I need to work on your aggression a little..."

"I wasn't even _mad._ Just... the way she was shaking you... and then I just..."

"Shhh. It's alright. We'll get you fixed up."

Ferb fell silent, as he was known to do, and Phineas continued his task. So much fixing to be done... He had no idea that Ferb was so unstable. He honestly thought he'd perfected the brain's design, at least as much as he could. The only consolation was that the new arm worked perfectly. The way it had torn through their flesh, splintered their bones... amazing! Horrible, because Baljeet and Buford were his friends, but amazing nonetheless.

"I can fix you, and I'm sure they'll be fine," Phineas added after a moment. "And even if they aren't, we know I can fix them too, don't we? Everything will be fine, Ferb. This is just a momentary roadblock."

"And when the cops come for us, charge us with attempted murder?"

Phineas stopped what he was doing and looked up into his brother's eye. Ferb was near tears, filled to the brim with a million questions and a billion problems he dared not speak of. It hurt to see him so upset. So _scared_.

"We can't let that happen, now can we?"

When Ferb finally cried, Phineas wiped away the motor oil that leaked out of the orb's socket, mentally reminding himself to see if he could fix that. There were so many things to fix... so many changes to be made...

This was their reality now.


	8. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worship no false prophets.

There were two beds in Buford's hospital room. His own had already bowed comfortably under his weight, and the heart monitor had become a soothing sound that let him knew he was still alive. He had survived the attack. His ribs were cracked, his legs broken, arms torn and bruised... but he had survived.

The other bed was empty.

Buford didn't know if Baljeet was alive or not. He had only briefly seen his friend as they were pushed into the ambulance; he had sustained much less damage, but at the same time, he was much weaker. They had to do surgery. And it wasn't the surgery Buford went through, where they stitched him up and put him in casts - it was major surgery. Something about a punctured lung.

He could be _dead_.

This was all Phineas's fault. That wacky little shit always seemed a bit too eager to mess everything up. Of _course_ he'd dabble in reanimating the dead, why not? And Ferb, who was a zombie no matter how advanced Phineas said he was, would obviously end up going berserk and trying to murder everyone. It was basic science fiction - but Phineas did it anyway. That little nutjob needed to be in a hospital way more than Buford did. A _mental_ hospital, that is.

The doctors said he had a bit of head trauma from the fight. Buford had waved it off, but he couldn't deny that he had a killer headache and couldn't really keep his focus. He thought he kept falling asleep, but couldn't be sure; _everything_ felt like a dream. Ever since he first saw that abomination reality had started falling to pieces.

"Yeah, everything _is_ a little topsy-turvy, isn't it?"

The door was still shut. The window was locked. The lights had been turned down low by a nurse a few hours prior, and had not been raised.

"You're wrong about one thing, though. It didn't start going wrong today. It started going wrong when Ferb died."

It was Phineas who stepped into Buford's field of view, his eyes glowing even in the dim light. There was blood on his face, his sweater, his hands... he was covered in it. When he opened his mouth, it dribbled out from under his tongue, painted his teeth and chin like the careful strokes of a paintbrush.

"It's not going to get better, either. _Normal_ doesn't exist anymore."

Buford tried to shake his head, but he found himself unable to move. "The hell is wrong with you? Why are you doin' this?"

Phineas grinned like the Cheshire Cat, but the cat had fallen into the garden, got covered in the paint meant for the roses.

"Because I'm God, Buford. And God does whatever He wants."

The paint on the walls was chipping away to reveal something much more sinister underneath - a blue glow, bright as the stars, piercing Buford's soul.

"I killed them all," the wall droned. "The nurses. The officers. Baljeet."

"No," Buford whispered.

"I killed them all," it repeated. "I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending."

"So sayeth the Lord," Phineas chimed in with a laugh. " _Amen._ "

* * *

The door opened, and in a flash, the vision was gone. The walls were white. The lights were dim.

"He's stable," said the nurse in the doorway. "We'll be keeping him in Intensive Care for the night. Then he can join you in here, sweetie."

Buford could only nod. She was gone in an instant, the door shut in her wake. He found himself unable to recall her departure. She was there, and then she wasn't.

He was alone.

Unable to move his arms, Buford sobbed openly into the empty air, his tears cascading down his cheeks and drenching his neck and ears.


	9. Inhibitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mind is a fascinating thing.

"Ah-ha, Perry the platypus! You have fallen prey to... Agh. No, no, this isn't working at all."

Norm watched the script fall to the floor, its pages splaying open to reveal lines of Courier New text typed up in the wee hours of the morning. His Father (no, no, _creator,_ it was only _creator)_ gave it a contemptuous glare before turning to the window and gazing out into the day.

Norm leaned over and picked up the script, thumbing through it in a fruitless search for the source of the doctor's anger. "Sir? Would you like some help rehearsing your lines?"

Dr. Doofenshmirtz waved his hand dismissively. "No... it's no use, Norm. He's not coming anyway."

He meandered over to the couch, and as he switched on the television, Norm returned his attention to the script. It started as they all did; the greeting, the trap, the invention... but somewhere around the third page it stopped being so typical. There were paragraphs upon paragraphs of monologue, and yet... it wasn't a backstory. It wasn't even an explanation. It seemed more like an _apology,_ a long-winded speech on how he was touched more than anything that Perry had even bothered to show... and beyond that it ceased being a script altogether. It read more like a diary entry, a melancholy rendition of the events of the past few weeks, events Norm had only the vaguest knowledge about.

"Sir?"

Heinz heaved a dramatic sigh and didn't even bother looking back. " _What,_ Norm?"

"Did somebody die?"

From out in the heart of the city came a scream; it was closely followed by a wailing car alarm and a barking dog. An agent at work, Norm thought.

Heinz turned to his side and hooked one arm around the back of the couch _._ "How did you...?" He trailed off as his eyes found the script. There was an intense sadness about him, Norm saw; something beyond the usual depression. Something darker.

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault, sir. You'd never kill anyone. You won't even kill Perry the platypus!"

Heinz flinched back as though he'd been stung. His hands were visibly shaking as he struggled for a response, and the thought suddenly occurred to Norm that perhaps _Perry_ had died - but it was quickly dismissed. If Perry the platypus had met with an unfortunate fate, Dr. Doofenshmirtz would have not only spoken of it, but he probably would have kept the body for himself and pretended it was still alive. Norm knew insanity was really just a platypus away for his Father.

"In other news, local authorities have identified the culprit in the case of Buford van Stomm and Baljeet Tjinder, who were both brutally attacked just days ago in our own backyard." Pictures of the boys in question flashed across the screen as Heinz and Norm both turned to look.

"Do we... do we know them?" The way Heinz asked the question made it seem rhetorical, yet Norm still studied their faces for an answer. They _did_ seem a little familiar... especially the larger one with the underbite.

"The only witness to the crime was interviewed earlier today, and it appears that a local _bear_ is to blame."

The bar along the bottom of the screen read _Phineas Flynn, Witness to Bear Attack._ Norm watched as Heinz sat up in alarm, then fumbled for the remote so the volume could be raised. _This_ boy he knew.

"Oh, man, it was _awful,_ " said Phineas as the wind whipped at his hair and the over-sized sweater he wore. Perry the platypus was in his arms and either half asleep or shutting his eyes against the breeze. "I've never even seen a bear outside of the zoo, and then... it was just _there._ I didn't even have time to react. In fact, if it wasn't for Perry here... he's a tough little guy!"

For having apparently fought a _bear,_ Perry the platypus looked pretty good, Norm thought. He almost relayed this out loud, but that was when Heinz spoke, his voice filled with equal parts awe and fear.

"Phineas, what did you _do?_ "

* * *

Ferb emerged from under his bed with a frustrated sigh. He'd known the wrench wouldn't be there, but he had to make sure - Phineas managed to leave his things in all manner of places, _especially_ when Ferb wasn't around to pick up after him.

The clutter of their bedroom was a nightmare to search through. It was all clothing and crumpled papers, signs of Phineas's sleepless nights and chaotic days; it was apparent that no one else had dared set foot inside within the past month. And why would they? Anything Phineas even _touched_ was off limits. He was a bomb with the clock disabled, able to blow at the slightest provocation.

Ferb had noticed his own clothes had been picked up and moved; he wondered, for a moment, how bad the fallout had been. He'd never seen Phineas blow up before, but based on the things he heard whispered between his parents, his brother had erupted on more than one occasion after the funeral. And of course there was the matter of the day of the accident...

_"How can you be okay with this?" Mum asked, her voice thick and wavering, her eyes no-doubt filled with tears. "Lawrence, that isn't..."_

_"It_ is _," Dad said. "I know my son, darling. And you know yours. This can't be too much of a shock, can it? Don't you remember what he said? 'I can fix it, I can fix it,' over and over..."_

_"While he tried to kick you!"_

_"He was upset. We all were. But he_ did _say he could fix it. Screamed it, really. He was rather serious about it."_

_"That doesn't make it okay!"_

_Dad had sighed, but it was still with that loving patience he was so filled with, and Ferb imagined him grabbing his mother by the shoulders and smiling at her as he spoke. "Forget right and wrong, Linda. This is just our boys. This is what they do. Could we ask anything less of them?"_

Ferb shook his head and lifted himself up to his feet. The conversation had unsettled him, and he wished he hadn't heard it; he had only been on his way to the bathroom and hadn't intended to eavesdrop. It was the first time he'd heard Mum speak in days... it was fitting, he supposed, that it was to decry what had been done to him. She seemed to be having the most trouble with it. And hadn't she always? If Candace had ever been able to actually bust them...

No, there was no time for that; he had a wrench to find.

He was digging through a pile on his brother's bed when it finally occurred to him to use the optic. It just wasn't something that came to him naturally. He still thought of having two eyes, never really focused hard enough to notice the difference - but he knew it was there. Phineas had gone over every detail with him, had gushed about the tech behind it and how it was made to see things the human eye couldn't _dream_ of seeing. All he had to do was focus, and the optic would take care of the rest.

Ferb looked around the room as if to make sure he wasn't being watched. A large part of him feared all that Phineas had done, and to _use_ it... He had almost killed one of his best friends by using his new arm. Even if the optic was harmless, it seemed like a betrayal of sorts, as though he were _accepting_ what had been done to his body. He wasn't sure he could ever get that far. It was too much, too terrifying; every night was filled with contemplation and self-loathing that all orbited his mechanics.

Still... he could use the optic.

The hum in his head was imperceptible outside of his skull and _maddening_ all the same. He would get used to it, surely, would grow to expect it; now, frightened though he was, he gripped his head in his hands and closed his eye firmly. This was _wrong_. It was so wrong, so _much,_ and for a moment he felt the weight of his situation bearing down upon him as it had when he first realized what had happened -

And then he saw the wrench.

With a tiny sigh of pure delight, Ferb jumped over the piles on the floor and made his way to the desk. The wrench was just slightly buried under crumpled papers, and were it not for the optic, he would never have noticed its glimmer in all the gloom. It looked so beautiful to him as he lifted it to his face and inspected its details. It was the special one - the one with Phineas's name etched on the side. His favorite tool. Ferb had given it to him for his sixteenth birthday.

There was a paper on the desk that had been written on. Ferb noticed it only after he had begun to pull away, all ready to go deliver the wrench to his brother. His optic made a tiny _click-click_ sound as it refocused twice.

His name was in the first line.

Curious now, Ferb set the wrench down and pulled the paper out from under the pile of failed successors that had been balled up and left to rot. The letters were shaky, and the paper was stained with tears; it hurt to look at as soon as he noticed. He could see Phineas in his mind, sitting alone in their shared bedroom, scrawling his messy letters as a fresh wave of sobbing overtook him. The pain must have been unbearable. And he had tried to let some of it out by...

...writing a song?

Ferb narrowed his eye as the humming started up again.

_Ferb, my brother, my bestest best friend_

_The other day I watched you meet your end_

_They assure me you are meant to ascend_

_But this is a problem I swear I will mend_

_Cross my heart and hope to die_

_Stick a rebar in your eye_

It stopped after that, though Ferb could see erased words crossing over one another below, and he was sure every other paper was much the same - Phineas was trying to make a song. Or he had been, anyway, before his _real_ work started. After that...

Ferb set the paper down and rubbed his temples with an agonized groan. He felt like _screamin_ g. At every turn, there was just another reminder, more _proof_ that this was all happening for real and he wasn't just having the worst nightmare in the world. He just wanted to wake up. Each day that had passed since his... resurrection... had been worse than the last in a variety of different ways. If only he could just _wake up._

A chatter at the door caught Ferb's attention, and he turned away from the desk and the horrible papers to find Perry watching him with his usual placid expression.

Ferb narrowed his eyes.

"You have a lot of nerve pretending everything is the same," he said. "I know what you did."

Perry chattered again and waddled into the room, his tail dragging on the floor behind him.

With a sigh, Ferb seated himself at the desk chair and watched Perry clamber onto Phineas's bed and make himself comfortable in the mess. He was nesting - a very normal thing for him to do. But things _weren't_ normal, and Perry _knew_ they weren't normal, and Ferb _knew_ that Perry knew.

"You kicked me."

Perry plopped down in his makeshift nest and blinked.

"Right in the middle of the chest. While I was _attacking._ Phineas told me you did."

Perry twitched, then pulled his head back and scratched his cheek with his back foot.

"Maybe Phineas was imagining things," Ferb said to himself as he rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Maybe he's that fucking insane now." It felt bad to say it out loud. He wasn't sure why he did; it was a thought he could have kept in his mind, with so many other things. Maybe he was trying to get a rise out of Perry. There had to be _something_ in there that was smarter than he let on; how else could he have known where to hit? Ferb couldn't remember the action itself, but he did remember waking up with Perry panting on top of him, obviously afraid and looking directly in front of his face for once.

Now, Perry was blank, his eyes carefully watching two different walls. _This is pointless,_ Ferb thought.

"C'mon, I have to give Phineas his wrench." Ferb stood up and stretched his back, then retrieved the tool from its place on the desk and took a step towards the door.

His mind, so fractured in the wake of the accident, kicked into gear at the sight of the wrench; he had picked it up, then set it down again because... because he had seen the song. Yes, the song, the thing he was agonizing over before Perry came back in. If he left it behind, Phineas could see it and remember...

Ferb used his metal hand to snatch the paper up and crumple it into a ball. He would take it with him to the kitchen and put it in the trash there - he couldn't take any chances.

He was afraid of what he would do if he heard those lyrics out loud.

* * *

"Just set it on the counter, thanks."

Ferb set the wrench down beside the sink - an installation Phineas had made after the accident - and walked behind his brother to see what he was doing. He'd noticed the laptop in the shed before, but he'd never actually seen Phineas using it; now he was typing away in a program Ferb didn't recognize, making split-second calculations and notes all over the screen. Ferb put his hands on Phineas's shoulders and leaned against him.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Phineas surprised him by laughing.

"I'm just getting some things ready," Phineas said without looking back. "Can you lay on the table for me?"

Ferb tightened his fingers on Phineas's bony shoulders, then relaxed, afraid his metal hand might leave bruises. "Why? I thought you wanted to... use your wrench on something. I don't really have anything that needs tightening." He was nervous now; he hated when Phineas so much as refilled his tank. He didn't want _more_ prodding and probing.

"I just wanted to have it; I don't need it right now." Phineas stopped typing, his eyes whizzing across the page, and then he turned around and looked Ferb in the eye. Ferb dropped his hands down to his sides and tried to not look awkward. "What I need right now is for you to lay down. Just trust me, okay? I have some things I need to attend to. I don't want... _We_ don't want another accident. Do we?"

With a heavy sigh, Ferb shook his head and looked down at the floor. He felt like a puppy that had pissed on the carpet. He couldn't _help_ it, hadn't been in control, but _still_ he felt horrible... and he had every right to! His 'accident' had left two of his best friends clinging to life in hospital beds. He couldn't even go visit them to apologize. And here was Phineas, about to strap a doggie diaper on him so he wouldn't do it again. Or something to that effect.

And really, he had no choice but to comply.

The table was just as cold and hard as it had been before. Ferb tried to relax as Phineas bustled about beside him, but it was difficult; his entire life had changed on this table. His body had been pieced together like a gruesome puzzle on this table. He hated it, wished he could smash it to pieces - but that sort of thought was dangerous. After what had happened, Ferb knew he very well might jump up and just _do_ it. His anger was suddenly a very real, very _destructive_ force.

Phineas appeared in his field of view with thick black straps in his hands. "I'm gonna have to tie you down, dude. You know... just in case."

Ferb swallowed hard and made an attempt to nod. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be afraid or turned on.

Over the years, he had mastered the art of redirection to cope with such things. As Phineas leaned over and began to strap him down, Ferb thought about the roof; it looked like it could use some repairs. It wasn't leaking yet, but it was certainly on its way with all the rain that had been happening. And there was such fragile machinery in the shed... some of it wouldn't survive if it got wet. They might have to rebuild things and that would take time. He would fix the roof before then. Maybe Phineas would help. Oh, who was he kidding; of course Phineas would help. And if it was a warmer day maybe he would take his shirt off -

No! No, none of that. Wrong train of thought. Ferb mentally berated himself before moving onto the tools he would need. A ladder, of course, and a hammer -

"That should do it," said Phineas, and Ferb was instantly focused on him again. "I hope, anyway... I'm gonna need some stronger ties. Try not to kill me, okay?" He was smiling, and Ferb couldn't find it in himself to smile back. Phineas didn't seem to notice how _terrified_ he looked. Then again, Phineas didn't notice a _lot_ of stuff; that was part of the problem, wasn't it? The way he just smiled at terrible things. Things that could kill him in an instant.

Ferb took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _Relax,_ he thought. _Just let him do his thing._

Phineas moved to the top of the table and gently lifted Ferb's head; within a few seconds, Ferb was feeling the horrible pressure of being _opened,_ and it took all of his willpower to keep from shuddering as a cable was plugged into his skull. Of course it was his brain Phineas was focusing on. It couldn't just be his arm, or his heart, it had to be his _brain._ He dreaded to think of how much had become cybernetic. In his peripheral vision he could see Phineas go to his laptop, and Ferb knew now that the program was Phineas's own design, something tailored to his project that had no-doubt been used to write codes and sequences currently at work inside of Ferb's mind.

"Now that you're all hooked up, I'll tell you a bit about what I'm doing," Phineas said as he began typing away. "I've been brainstorming a lot of things and I'm _pretty_ sure this all has something to do with your inhibitions."

Ferb arched an eyebrow, knowing it wouldn't be seen but feeling the need to do it anyway.

"So what I'm gonna do is shut them off completely and see if anything changes. I'm pretty sure I did it right, but there's a chance you have some kind of glitch in there that's making them not function..."

Since he wasn't looking, Phineas didn't notice the way Ferb's eye shot wide open, or the way he was shaking as he said, "Could you not? I need those."

Phineas laughed as typed in a few final things. "It'll be okay, Ferb, I'll turn them back on. I just have to see if they're functioning properly, if anything changes without them." He moved to press the enter key, then paused, his head tilted. "But... why are you worried? Are you afraid of what you'll say?" He hit the key as soon as he'd said it, then looked back and waited for a response.

He didn't have to wait long.

"I'm afraid I'm going to actually hurt you," Ferb said in a rush, his eye pleading. "I'm afraid I'll rip off these straps and leap across the room and tear you apart. And I'm afraid I'll come onto you, or maybe I'll just jump up and start humping you. I don't know. You look so gorgeous, Phineas, I don't know what I might do. I wouldn't have the presence of mind to hold myself back like I have been. I just want to kiss you. I want to grab you by the hair and _kiss_ you. What if I do that? What if you hate me? My inhibitions have been the only thing keeping me restrained. You can't take that from me."

Phineas leaned against the counter, his eyes wide. His heart was beating faster now than it had when Ferb had attacked their friends.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

For once completely speechless, Phineas could only shake his head as he turned back to the computer and typed in a new command. It suddenly felt much too hot in the shed, and he wanted to leave, but he knew he couldn't - he had to tend to Ferb. Ferb came before everything. Ferb was his best friend, Ferb was his greatest invention, Ferb was...

Madly in love with him.

Phineas hit the enter key a little too hard, then pulled his hand back and rubbed at his neck.

It took Ferb a few moments to gather his thoughts, and when he did, it felt like his stomach twisted itself through a narrow tube and fell into his intestines. The fear was akin to how he felt the last time he'd been on this table, and in that moment he wished Phineas had never brought him back.

"Oh _God,"_ he said, his voice weak.

And there it was again. The pain, deep in his head, where metal met bone and computer chips melded with brain matter. It came in waves; first they were gentle, and then they came harder, faster, and Ferb groaned as Phineas moved to his side and reached for the cables.

"Ferb? Look, we can talk about this - "

A wave of electricity brought the blackness with it, and he went under, down into the nothing.

* * *

Candace hesitated in front of the door, just as afraid now as she had been in the past. Only this time... she knew what she would find.

It was hard to not feel worried about the both of them; they were still her brothers, even if one was insane and the other was dead. Even in the wake of the attack she felt so much _love_ for them. She hated it; she wanted to be furious, wanted to be in the front lines of the growing war against them. But... they had technically been busted already. Her drive to do anything had been taken from her.

Just as she reached for the handle, the door flew open, and she found herself face-to-face with Ferb.

He didn't spare her a second glance as he weaved around her, and she watched him charge the fence before leaping impossibly high and clearing it. She didn't even have a chance to react before Phineas was at her side.

"Ferb! Come back!" Candace couldn't help but frown at him; he sounded like he was calling for Perry. "Ferb, we can talk about this!"

"What just happened?" she asked, her voice wavering.

Phineas sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "He... he told me some stuff, and then he flipped out. I thought he was... I thought... He was acting like he did before he attacked. But he just ran away."

Against her better judgement, Candace reached out and put a hand on Phineas's shoulder. He looked at her as though she were a stranger... but then seemed to relax, and she could see her _brother_ in his eyes.

"Just give him some time," she said. "I'm sure he'll come back on his own."

Great. Now _she_ was talking like he was Perry. She wished he was; a runaway platypus was much easier to deal with.

Phineas looked over the fence with his lips drawn in a straight line. Candace knew that look, and was sure he was going to go after Ferb; nothing she said could stop it. She briefly considered joining him... then drew back from the idea. Not only was this _their_ thing, but she still couldn't so much as talk to Ferb directly.

He _scared_ her.


	10. Stress Response

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are easier than others.

"And that's really all I can tell you."

Irving stared at Isabella as she lifted her water bottle to her lips and downed the rest of its contents in a few heavy gulps. The crackle of plastic as her grip tightened, perhaps out of anger or anxiety, reminded Irving of electricity.

"Wow," he said as he leaned back against the couch cushions, eyes wide and expression awed. "Wow. This would be _so_ cool if he hadn't went berserk like that."

"I was ready to go along with it," Isabella admitted as she set the empty bottle down on her coffee table. "I just... wanted Phineas to understand that he couldn't go dragging Ferb in public like nothing was wrong. And next thing I knew..." She shook her head and ran an unsteady hand through her hair, somehow catching no snags and making it all the way to the end. "Baljeet was asleep last time I visited, and Buford refuses to talk about it. I've never seen him so… I don't know... _vulnerable_."

"The whole world's turned upside down, huh?" said Irving with a nervous smile.

Silence stretched between them as the wind outside shoved sharp branches against the windows, sending uneasy shrieks through the house. The gale had been picking up in the rain's absence, turning into a storm all its own; the weather was so chaotic these days. Irving wondered if it had anything to do with what had happened.

Maybe God was mad.

Internally he chastised himself for the thought. Religion wasn't a strong point of the DuBois family, no sir. Especially when it came to Albert, who'd taught his younger brother all his skeptical and so-called "superior" ways before eventually moving out of the house (with much prodding from their parents). And even without that... Phineas and Ferb had done so much before then, before _this,_ and hadn't that all flown in the face of nature too? To "play God" was simply to _be_ Phineas Flynn. It made sense to Irving, and to Isabella, and certainly that meant any possible deities could see it the same way.

Irving reached out to set a hand on Isabella's shoulder, then pulled back at the last second and clasped both hands in his lap. Without asking he knew he was the last resort. Though his relationship with all of the other kids had grown stronger through their teen years, Isabella was not someone who considered him a close friend, and she'd surely exhausted all her other options before coming to him. Though upon further thought it seemed odd that any of the Fireside Girls would turn their backs to this...

A new thought occurred, an exciting one.

"How many people are you telling this to?" Irving asked. "I mean, I don't really think this would be a private matter between _us_..."

Isabella crossed her arms and sighed. "People who are... close enough. This is obviously an _extreme_ danger, and if Phineas can't get it under control - "

"You're forming a team!" Irving blurted in his excitement. "The Phineas and Ferb Defense Squad! Containing and maintaining our psychotic and zombified friends!"

Under normal circumstances, Isabella may have laughed, but now she only gave Irving a firm glare. "This is _serious,_  Irving. Phineas has so much power, and he's in a prime position to start abusing it - we need to gather all of our resources and take care of this ourselves."

Irving nodded, grinning like an idiot, and bounced on the couch cushion. "I know it's serious, that's the best part! This is, like, a crazy action-adventure with the best guys ever at the heart of it!"

"You're a little old to still be holding onto that obsession," said Isabella with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, you're their _friend._ You don't need to be a fanboy."

Irving was just about to make a comment about Isabella's own lasting obsession when something in his peripheral vision demanded his attention instead. He turned towards the nearby window, which faced the street and the house across from it, and observed none other than Phineas himself walking down his driveway before turning onto the sidewalk.

"Somebody's on the move," Irving said, and Isabella turned her head to see what he meant. Silence fell between them yet again as they observed Phineas first looking both ways, then heading to the right and disappearing from their view.

It wasn't long before Isabella was standing and heading for the coat rack by the front door. "He looked like he was in a hurry," she said as she yanked on her jacket. "This is the exact kind of thing we need to keep an eye on."

Irving clapped his hands together and jumped to his feet. "Hell yeah, tailing the target! Should we take photos? Maybe bring along a recorder? I have -"

"Just shut your mouth and come with me," said Isabella. Irving was more than happy to oblige.

* * *

Phineas zipped up his windbreaker all the way to his throat, then reached into the pocket of his jeans and removed a small, handheld GPS system pointing in the direction Ferb had gone. Any scientist worth their salt put tracking devices into their projects.

"A straight line isn't very strategic," Phineas said to himself as he zoomed out to observe the entire map. "He must not be thinking properly… maybe this is related to the problem he's having…"

A particularly strong gust of wind blew past and Phineas swayed and stepped back in an almost comical fashion. In his brief moment of annoyance, he decided the wind was an inconvenience - something that would definitely have to be stopped at some point in the future, or at least until it calmed down a little. He hated wearing windbreakers and he hated being distracted from his extremely important goal, which was _Ferb._

The knowledge that this was nothing like it used to be - that he was thinking like a person even _he_ didn't know - was lost to him. He had a brother to find.

On he marched along the sidewalk, carefully watching the waypoint that represented brother as he went - it was still moving, but had not deterred from its straight path and would likely continue in this fashion for some time. Phineas would continue to stare at the map just in case _._ Prepared as he was for such a situation, it was still unexpected. The possibilities of what could happen next were absolutely endless. That was where his mind remained for a solid block - what exactly had caused this? What was Ferb thinking? What might Ferb do? What might the world do in response?

Eventually, however, Phineas's mind - always a chaotic place - began to sift through other topics as the line he followed remained the same. It wasn't long before he had gone back to before Ferb had run, when secrets he'd never have expected had been revealed.

 _So… he's got a thing for me,_ Phineas thought, his internal voice slow and going over the words again and again. _Didn't see that coming. Not really a big deal, I guess, just… sort of a shock. I'm so used to being prepared for things. Of everything he could have said… I just always thought we had this cool brother thing going on._

He frowned down at his GPS as though it were the source of his frustrations. _We_ do _have a cool brother thing going on! I know Ferb, it's not like he'd forget we're related just because he wants to kiss me… Well, not_ related _related, not by blood, but - it's not like I'm suddenly not his BROTHER. He wouldn't see me as something else…_

The waypoint came to a stop, then jittered around as though Ferb was doing some sort of complex maneuvering. "About time," Phineas muttered at the screen. "I almost thought he'd never stop." He moved the map around, checking out the general layout of what he would be passing, then pulled it back to a place where he could see his location in relation to Ferb's. There were still several blocks to go; even before the new leg, Ferb had been quite the runner, had even been on track for a time when their high school stopped offering soccer.

Phineas ducked his head as the wind picked up again, throwing his own hair into his face like tiny whips. When it slowed he continued on in his steady pace, his mind returning to its previous topic of interest.

 _Nothing's changed - nothing has to change. I've seen best friends start dating before. It's not always some radical shift into romance town - it's just a little more to the relationship. Like… heavier affection. And I'm pretty sure I could handle that. This really isn't a bad thing… I completely overreacted. No wonder Ferb ran off._ Phineas sighed and looked up at the sidewalk, and all the houses beside it, then over to the other side where the neighborhood had long ago turned away and given space for a park. _The plan was to turn off his inhibitions and get him_ angry _, see if he would respond the way he did before. Good thing that's not what happened, since he tore right through the straps… but I still shouldn't have done that. Turned them off after asking some invasive question._

A dog behind a gate jumped up to bark at Phineas as he passed, startling him out of his thoughts. He looked at it for a moment, admiring its glossy coat and sleek shape, then turned his head to the left to look back the way he'd come. In his peripheral he swore he'd seen somebody else…

But there was no one. And why would there be? It was a miserable day to be outside.

Phineas returned his gaze to the GPS. The waypoint hadn't moved, which was both a relief and a bit alarming. Was it possible Ferb had been hurt?

He allowed the dog a sniff of his device through the gate before he continued on his way.

_Either way, I know now, whether my knowing is justified or not. And there's no reason to make a huge deal about it. I have Ferb back, and that's what matters, isn't it? He's back in my life, and he's staying. Forever. So what if he wants to kiss or hold hands or whatever. I mean, I know he's respectful - he said he wanted to kiss me, and I bet he's felt that way before, but he's never done it. Never just grabbed my shoulders and planted one on me._

A faint glimmer of a memory sparked in his mind, and then it was gone, as if it had never been there at all.

 _I bet things would barely change. It would all be the same as it used to be, except maybe we'd kiss sometimes. And there's the cyborg thing, which is cool, so maybe this will be cool too…_ Thought of Ferb's improvements reminded Phineas more of the matter at hand, and he looked at the GPS once more even though nothing had changed. The waypoint was stationary and the line leading to it was straight as an arrow.

_He started freaking out… and he tore through the straps… but he didn't attack. He ran. But that didn't happen until I reactivated the chip in his prefrontal cortex… He must have made a conscious decision to run. But he had that blank look in his eye…_

There was obviously some sort of explanation here, something that would bring it all together. It just wasn't coming to him - he was thinking in the wrong places. Perhaps literally.

 _What if the prefrontal cortex has nothing to do with this?_ Phineas thought as he rubbed his chin with his free hand. _His inhibitions probably aren't the problem, if this running away is related to his attacking -_

Phineas paused in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes going wide as a revelation dawned on him.

"The fight or flight response!" he shouted in his new excitement. A cat several feet ahead jumped to its feet and ran at his outburst. "That explains everything! It was a stress response brought on by being put on the spot… gosh, I should have known better than to do that to him…"

Once again he looked down at the GPS. "And the straight line - tunnel vision! He was just trying to get away as fast as possible, and he had no peripheral vision, no higher brain functions - this is great! Now that I know what's wrong I can handle it just fine!"

He did a little spin on the ball of his right foot, kissed the GPS, then continued on his way with a new spring in his step. Things always had a way of working themselves out, didn't they? Phineas had never really had a problem with situations being resolved - half the time he didn't even need to do anything. It was like the world revolved around him and Ferb, like it catered to their every whim… What a pleasant thought.

 _The world is an oyster and life is tastin' sweet,_ he thought. He wasn't sure where that had come from… maybe a song they'd done in their youth, based on the musical feel of it. There had been so many, he couldn't always keep track (especially not without Ferb's help). And they had still been doing them up until Ferb's death - the newer ones he remembered better. They retained much of their past selves' innocence while occasionally splicing in the odd innuendo. Still just as fun as ever.

This train of thought continued on for some time, lasting long enough for it to still be going by the time Phineas began to approach Ferb's position. Mind, it had strayed off into several tangents and he had somehow arrived on the topic of the movie _Titanic_ by the time he arrived, but his thought trains ran on winding rails that intersected all over the place, so it wasn't too much of a surprise.

The GPS clearly showed that Ferb was very close by - supposedly right in front of where Phineas had come to a stop - but all he saw was an empty street, as the sidewalk he'd been walking along had finally turned away, and beyond that was another lawn with a rather large oak tree on it. Phineas had always liked oak, for obvious reasons, and there certainly was a lot in the area…

A few more steps brought him right into the waypoint, which happened to also be directly in front of the oak tree. A scraping sound - metal and wood, but that wasn't what Phineas immediately thought - drew Phineas's attention upwards. Above him, straddling a branch and tightly gripping a vertical offshoot, was the missing brother he'd been searching for. Well… not really searching. Just trailing behind, if anything.

It came as a relief to see that Ferb's eye was not vacant and staring forwards as it had been, but rather was trained on Phineas, not really wide but definitely very _observant_. To others it may have been a blank expression. To Phineas, it was a filled canvas of emotion - worry, fear, even a hint of sadness evident in the subtle tilt of his brow.

"Hey buddy," Phineas greeted with a wide smile. "Whatcha doin'?"

Ferb's pupil twitched back and forth ever-so-slightly as he searched Phineas's face for… something. Probably something bad.

 _Poor guy,_ thought Phineas.

Ferb leaned back from the vertical offshoot of the branch and looked back at the trunk of the tree. "I'm… sitting in a tree, apparently." He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then covered it with his metal hand and sighed. "I don't remember anything after… I…"

"That's to be expected." Phineas gave the tree a more careful look, now noting the deep gouges Ferb's metal leg must have made as he exerted all of its force into the wood. "I've figured out what's going on. See, it's… would you mind coming down?" He looked back up at Ferb and was surprised to find that his brother's expression had changed to one of firm determination, though that fear was still present underneath.

The intimidating factor of such a look was shattered as Ferb said, in a quiet voice, "I don't want to."

Phineas tilted his head. "Do you like it up there? Our tree is better… I mean, not to insult this tree, if you like it, but… you love _our_ tree, don't you? Wouldn't you rather be there?"

There was a brief moment wherein Ferb stuck out his lower lip in what might have been a pout, but it was quickly gone. "I forgot what happened _after_ I told you. I didn't forget what I… Are you just going to pretend nothing happened?"

"Oh, no, not at all!" Phineas waved his hands, noticed he was still holding the GPS, and pocketed it before going on. "I want to discuss that too. I've had a while to think… I don't know how long you've technically been conscious, but you ran pretty far, dude. And I just walked. I've got everything figured out."

Ferb didn't seem satisfied, but he did seem to relax the tiniest bit, and then he swung his other leg over the branch before dropping down to the ground. It was a pretty decent fall - Phineas was delighted to see Ferb putting faith in his improvements.

"You sound optimistic," Ferb said as they came face-to-face (or face-to-chest, really, but Phineas was looking up). "I guess you always do, though. So… what do you figure?"

The two began to walk away from the tree, back the way they'd come, their steps in time with one another as always. With his brother back in his sights, Phineas felt his body loosen considerably, though he hadn't noticed how tense he'd been since Ferb ran off. And why would he? He was too focused on Ferb.

"First of all, I was entirely wrong about the problem," Phineas began with a flip of both wrists. "It had nothing to do with inhibition. I'm sure you've come to that conclusion yourself… I'm sorry about what I did, by the way."

Ferb shrugged, but he was looking away from Phineas and he didn't look happy. "It was bound to come out sooner or later," he said. "It's been... overbearing as of late. So what's the problem?"

"It's actually not really a problem at all, believe it or not." Phineas reached up to sling an arm around Ferb's shoulders, surprising him, and then tapped his temple. "It was there all along! It's just… reacting poorly with the new computer systems. As in, your brain sends out a signal to shut down, and the computer bits take that signal and… do what it says. So you shut down. Well, I mean, besides the 'reptilian brain.' I've always loved that, _reptilian brain._ Like we were all lizards once. Wouldn't that be neat? Of course, it only applies if the triune brain theory is correct..."

Ferb raised an eyebrow, then lowered it in thought. "Wait… you mean the fight or flight response? You think I'm _blacking out_ and trying to _kill people_ because I feel vaguely _threatened?_ "

Patting Ferb on the back in a manner that could possibly be considered condescending, Phineas said, "Think about it - doesn't it fit? You got stressed out, so the stress response happened, but it conflicted with your new brain and you _literally_ went into fight mode. It happened again today - you got stressed, there was a response, and you ran like a freakin' gazelle."

"...I guess it does fit, when you put it that way." Ferb made a move as though to pull away, then remained close to Phineas instead, presumably because of the hand still resting upon his back (though possibly because he really did want to stay near). "So… the other thing…"

Phineas came to a halt, and Ferb followed suit in his usual fashion of somehow doing it at the exact same time.

"You still think of me as a brother and a best friend, right, Ferb?"

Once again, the subtlest changes in Ferb's expression alerted Phineas to his brother's feelings - he was nervous, now, perhaps even anxious. This conversation had to go smoothly or he was likely to run off again. The trouble wasn't in finding him; it was in minimizing the damage done. From their current position Ferb could go any number of ways leading him directly into soft, squishy people he could obliterate just by shoving them aside. That would be one hell of a mess to clean up and Phineas was in no mood to come up with a cover story for _that._

"I… yes, of course," said Ferb. "Just because I… nothing's really changed except - "

"Except you want to kiss me and junk." Phineas smiled and patted Ferb's back again. "That's what I thought. You wouldn't just abandon everything we have because you want to hold my hand or something. You're not like that. I just had to make sure."

Ferb stared at Phineas for a moment, then rubbed the back of his neck and glanced off to the side. "Well… it's more than just _hand-holding…_ But where exactly are you going with this? Are you saying you're... _okay_ with it?"

"More than that, bro!" Phineas grabbed Ferb's shoulders and pulled him down and sideways so they were more eye-to-eye. "I'm saying it's a-go! I mean, if we can stay the way we are, why should it really matter if we kiss or cuddle or whatever it is you wanna do? I bet it'll be fun!"

"H-huh?"

"In fact, if you want, you could probably kiss me right now - I've never actually done that before. You have though, right? You probably know what to do."

Phineas waited patiently for the kiss to happen, even puckering his lips a bit as an invitation, but all that actually came next was Ferb staring at him in shock, then pulling back and wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

"Someone could see us…" he said, but Phineas had a feeling his reluctance had to do with something else entirely. "We should get home. Then we can… we can at least talk about this a little more…" When Phineas didn't immediately respond, Ferb made eye contact with him again and sighed hard through his nose.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, and though Phineas was usually one to break such a silence as soon as possible, he sensed that Ferb had something he wanted to express. This feeling proved to be correct when, after another round of opening his mouth and closing it a few times, Ferb held his arms out for a hug - something they hadn't properly done since that first day in the shed. Phineas was more than happy to comply, and was almost instantly wrapping his arms tight around Ferb's midsection and burying his face in the thick fabric of a shirt bought only last Christmas. Phineas could feel the wires and plating beneath the cotton, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. After all, he was the one who'd put those things there.

Ferb did kiss him, now, though not the way he'd expected - it was a soft, light kiss on the top of his head, something Phineas might not have even noticed if it wasn't already on his mind as a possibility. Ferb followed this by holding him tight, but only with the arm covered in stitches and scars - the metal arm was light across his back, surely out of fear of holding on too tight and… breaking things. He was certainly strong enough.

The embrace lasted a long time, and each time Phineas thought it might be time to let go, he was overtaken by the sudden urge to hold on even tighter - or Ferb would do the same. Somewhere down deep, Phineas didn't really want to let go at all. Ferb had left his life too much as of late. Phineas wanted them to be together for the rest of forever, until time itself ceased to exist and universe imploded and sent their souls into a place where nothing existed except for their neverending love for one another.

Ferb was his _everything._

When they finally parted, Phineas made sure to take his brother's hand and hold it tight - it was a little odd, gripping hard metal that way, but it was still comforting. It was still Ferb. And soon enough, he would have the time to work on synthetic skin covers, and then everything would look and feel the same as it had been before, and it would be as though nothing had ever happened at all and they could go back to adventuring and building and just being _themselves_.

"Everything is gonna work out fine," Phineas said with a smile. "We're gonna be okay, bro." He squeezed Ferb's hand, and Ferb squeezed back, though it was gentle and didn't last long. Either he was unenthusiastic or still afraid of holding on too tight and breaking bones into tiny little pieces.

Their stroll home was spent in semi-comfortable silence, their fingers interlaced all the way to the front door.

* * *

Isabella peered around the trunk of a large pine tree in the park opposite the sidewalk, a pair of binoculars in hand and held up to her eyes. Irving peered around the other side and, having no binoculars of his own, squinted at the receding figures walking back the way they'd come.

"I couldn't see him that well from over here," said Irving with excitement evident in his voice, "but I gotta say Ferb looked pretty awesome. What's up with that blue lightbulb where his left eye's supposed to be, though? Does he see through it?"

"Probably," Isabella said. "I didn't really get a chance to ask." She handed the binoculars over to Irving, who fumbled with them for a moment before putting them up to his glasses.

"What the hell was that?" Isabella went on. "Did Ferb just… _run off?_ Does Phineas have _any_ idea how dangerous that is? Why would Ferb be running in the first place? Every time he's gone off on his own, as far as I remember, it's been for personal introspection or some debate thing. He can't do either of those in a _tree_."

"You'd be surprised by what you can do in a tree," said Irving. "But you're right, it doesn't really seem like a… _Ferb_ thing." He adjusted the dials on the side of the binoculars and _oooh_ 'd at what he saw. "Wow, check out the detail on that arm! The silhouette is almost perfect! Almost like he's… not actually a walking corpse!"

The look on Isabella's face was a perfect opposite of the look on Irving's - she was confused, angry, and more than a little pessimistic about the entire situation. "Before he got to that tree, Phineas yelled something about the fight or flight response," she said in a careful sort of way. "Maybe that explains some of what's been going on…"

Irving looked away from the binoculars and over at Isabella. "Makes sense," he said. "I mean, if you think about it… Ferb always struck me as an anxious guy."

Isabella blinked, opened her mouth, then turned to Irving with an incredulous look. "Ferb? Ferb Fletcher? _Anxious?_ Where in the world did you get that idea?"

With a shrug, Irving raised the binoculars back up to his glasses. "I guess I can see how you'd miss it. Y'know, just push it off as being part of his introversion. But I've been watching both Phineas _and_ Ferb for a _long_ time, and let me tell you, there are a lot of situations that make him really freakin' nervous. He hides it pretty well most of the time, but… He's got some tells. I'll tell you more about it later. Right now, we should probably try to catch up."

He handed the binoculars back, and Isabella stared at him for a moment before looking through them again. Sure enough, the boys had gotten pretty far away and they needed to get closer if they wanted any sort of chance to see more.

Isabella took the lead, as usual, and Irving followed behind her as she did her best to make sure they wouldn't be seen. There was a stealth patch, and she'd more than earned it several years prior.

"You know, I can probably set up some hidden cameras," said Irving as they slid behind a fence. "I mean, only in their backyard, but that would probably help keep tabs on them. You know?"

The way Isabella's lips pressed together and made a straight line was an obvious sign of her discontent, something Irving found quite uncomfortable to see. "I… appreciate the idea. It's a good one. But…" She hesitated, her head tilted, looking for the right words. "I… I don't think they would go unnoticed. No matter how well you hid them. And even if they did, things have a weird habit of vanishing within a day if they're put in that backyard."

"Ferb didn't vanish," Irving pointed out. "Neither did that shed. Or the… the, um, sculpture. Maybe that weird force doesn't work anymore."

Isabella shook her head. "No, it does. Or at least it did right up until they made that… thing. The shed was an exception for whatever reason, but everything else still went away. And… I hate to sound superstitious here, but the universe has always seemed to be in their favor."

There was a tense silence as they watched Phineas and Ferb continue their walk, and then they were on the move again.

"I guess you're right, Iz." Irving frowned and raised a finger to his chin as he thought. "There's just got to be an easier way to do this than by tailing after them…" He went quiet for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "I got it! That GPS Phineas has!"

Isabella came to a halt and rounded on Irving. "Are you kidding? You think we can actually _get that_ from him? It's not just as easy as asking to borrow it - you saw the news report. He's starting to cover things up, and giving something that sensitive to one of his friends who witnessed that attack…"

"I could -"

A slender hand thrust in front of his face silenced Irving. "No, you can't. I don't think Phineas has ever lent you anything that wasn't leftover scrap or homework answers. If we want something like that, we have to steal it."

"Steal from Phineas and Ferb?" Irving crossed his arms and looked down at the ground in shame as though it had been his idea and not Isabella's. "I dunno if I can do that…" He considered Phineas's incredible talent for a moment, then added, "But that GPS would be really handy."

Isabella looked down, then in the direction the boys were going, right at their receding silhouettes. "Yeah… it would be."

Without another word, the pair continued their stealthy mission with a reserved sort of enthusiasm and determination.

* * *

Perry thrust his head out from under a shrub and frowned at Irving and Isabella as they went on their way. He was never one for unexpected obstacles; over the past several years he'd become rather familiar with a rigid formula that only changed on the rarest of occasions. Having not been invited on the quest for Ferb, Perry's plan had been to secretly trail Phineas and make sure that both he and Ferb got home safely. He hadn't accounted for the presence of other people intent upon doing a similar thing.

Hiding from both Phineas _and_ Isabella had made it all but impossible to catch any of what Phineas said, or really even see what went on between him and Ferb when they were reunited. Damn those nosy friends of theirs! Not that he didn't like Isabella or tolerate… whatever the other one's name was, but they were interfering with super-secret family pet/parental figure business! If he'd had more time to prepare, perhaps he could have easily avoided them, but there wasn't really any time before Phineas was leaving the back yard…

A rather strong gust of wind ruffled Perry's fur, and without thinking, he snapped his teeth at it. Moments later he realized how foolish this was and mentally berated himself for acting like some kind of mentally-challenged dog.

With a growling sigh, Perry crossed the road to the sidewalk his boys were walking on (though they were now dozens of yards ahead of him) and slipped into the front yard that was there, his plan behind to traverse the battlefield of picket fences and lawn gnomes so that his chances of being spotted were lessened. He would still have to hang back behind both groups, but at least he was protected from any of them turning around for whatever reason.

As he climbed his way over a fence, Perry was surprised by a vaguely familiar bark that was saying his name.

" _Hey P!"_ barked Beau the Doberman. " _You on some kind of recon mission?"_

" _Sort of,"_ Perry chattered back. " _It's not easy having teenage owners, B. You wouldn't believe the trouble they get into."_

Beau nodded, then perked his ears and stepped forward with a tilted head. " _Hey, the one with the crazy red hair - is that yours?"_

Perry sighed and dropped down to the ground of Beau's yard. " _Yes, that's Phineas."_

" _Cool!"_ Beau wagged his stump of a tail (so inhumane, cutting their tails off like that, but Perry couldn't do anything about it) and crouched down so they were face-to-face. " _I barked at him! He had this device on him - some kind of tracker, I think."_ He stopped wagging, tilted his head the other way, then let his rump thump onto the ground with the rest of him. " _He just came back this way, didn't he? I was in the living room with the old man, I totally missed him."_

Sometimes Perry wished all he had was an "old man," but even now, he wouldn't trade his boys for the world. " _It's better that you didn't, B. He had… someone else with him. Someone frightening. You probably would have gotten scared."_

" _The Agent in me is pretty offended by that,"_ Beau whined. " _But the dog in me knows you're right. I still get freaked by those teenagers sometimes, with their chains and piercings and spiky hair…"_

" _The Agent in you_ is _a dog,"_ Perry chattered as he began to climb the other side of the gate. "All _of you is a dog. Unless you want to tell me you're part gazelle?"_

Beau opened his mouth in a mimic of a laugh, then put his nose under Perry's rump to help him over the gate. " _Good one. Dunno why everyone else calls you such a stick in the mud, P. You seem pretty fun."_

" _That's because you barely know me. Give it a few months."_ Perry shook himself off, then lifted a paw to wave at Beau. " _See you at the O.W.C.A., B."_

Beau barked a goodbye, and then Perry continued on his way, trotting a bit so he might catch up before anyone reached home.

It was good to know the entire O.W.C.A. didn't know the horrible secrets of his family. Sure, Beau had probably heard about Ferb's demise, but from the start he didn't seem the type to commit things to memory for long. Or, at the very least, he didn't associate that particular memory with his knowledge of the infamous Agent P. With luck, there were many others like that, and this could stay quiet until…

Until what?

Perry sighed and slowed to his usual ambling walk. He had high hopes for what Phineas could do to restore things, certainly, but… could everything _really_ return to normal? Wasn't this the exact sort of thing that could shatter everything around it irreparably?

No, no, he had to continue having hope. He had to have faith in his boys. They would fix this… things would be fine.

And maybe, in time, Perry could face Heinz again.

He sped up again, knowing he was getting closer to home and wanting nothing more in that moment than to curl up in one of his boys' laps and take a nap. When he was asleep… it was easier to pretend everything was okay. Despite a history of nightmares, Perry had found his dreams somewhat pleasant since Ferb's reanimation, and hopefully this would continue. Mostly they were dreams of the past - half-days spent together and the greatest adventure of all time that only he remembered - but sometimes they were dreams of the future, where Ferb looked like an _adult_ Ferb and he and Phineas lived together with Perry forever and ever and ever.

Those were the best dreams of all.


	11. Heat of the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are things getting better? Or is it all just a hopeful dream?

In the past, in the days before the metaphorical rain clouds covered the sky of their lives, the Flynn-Fletcher household was rarely silent. There was always something going on, whether it be Phineas and Ferb building or Linda and Lawrence bonding or Candace being on the phone, fawning over Jeremy or screaming about her brothers to Stacy. Something was always _happening,_ and the clamor of their daily lives was happy and comforting, albeit a bit strange at times. They were a vivacious family in those days; they had always been, and had assumed they always would be.

Now… Candace couldn't tell if she was alone or if her parents were still lurking about somewhere, silent and afraid. Her dad had become much happier now that Phineas had… done what he'd done, but her mother was even more subdued than before and Lawrence was the sort to join in her quietness when he knew he couldn't comfort her out of it. Not to mention how they'd all started tiptoeing about in the wake of the accident, when Phineas was at his most unstable… even recent events couldn't snap them out of that, out of the subconscious fear that one wrong step would earn them a wide-eyed lunatic's angry gaze.

Candace set down her cocoa mug with shaking hands and sighed into the silence. Phineas was better now, certainly, at least in terms of his personality. Maybe she _should_ have gone with him to look for Ferb. She'd taken so much time off of school just to be here with the family, yet she rarely spoke to them, especially the one - or _ones_ \- at the center of it. Her brief interaction with Phineas as Ferb ran and cleared the fence was the most they'd shared in weeks. There _was_ the day of Ferb's revival, but Phineas had done most of the talking then, hadn't he?

Ferb… what a complicated subject. Candace crossed her arms tight over her chest and stared into her mug, deep into the reflection of her own eyes and the conflict that lay beyond. She heard his voice, sometimes, as he spoke with Phineas; it was deep and smooth, save for the occasional crack, and his mannerisms and body language were all the same… yet there still remained the fact that he had nearly killed his own friends, had torn their flesh and snapped their bones without an ounce of emotion. And sometimes, in the dead of night, when Candace left her room for water or a trip to the bathroom, she would see that gleaming blue orb in the darkness. She could never tell if it was trained on her or not, if he was stable or out of control, if the blue might suddenly become larger and larger until it engulfed everything and left her mangled in its wake.

It was terrifying. _He_ was terrifying.

But for all that… he was still her brother.

What a mess this all was. Without really thinking, Candace glanced around the floor to see if Perry was near, but he was nowhere in sight. Strange how he seemed to have the most handle on the situation. He had grown more intelligent over the years, certainly due to Phineas and Ferb, but the extent to which he showed it now… it would have been eerie were it not Candace's only source of comfort. Odd as it was, Perry always seemed to know what to _do,_ and it felt good to be able to hold onto someone who could make all the right decisions. Her days of shunning him for being a smelly, stupid creature had gone, replaced by the need to keep him close so that he may help her cope with the horrible happenings in her home.

The sound of the front door opening jarred Candace from her thoughts. She considered that it might be one of her parents, but the footsteps said otherwise - there were two people, and one had a _very_ heavy foot that clunked on the floor like one of the boys's power tools being set down after a day of hard work.

Unsure of what to to do and still bristling with unease and fear, Candace remained still in her seat.

The cocoa in her mug rippled and jumped as Ferb's foot came down on the dining room floor.

"Hey sis!" Phineas greeted with an enthusiastic wave as Candace turned to look at him. He was smiling, as always; Ferb was not, but his face was not expressionless. There was a certain worry about him she was sure she'd seen on that very first day, when he was backed into the shadows of that dreadful shed.

"Hey," Candace replied as she forced a smile onto her face. "So… you found him?"

"Sure did!" Phineas grabbed Ferb's arm and brought him closer, looking up at him with an eager sort of fondness. "He was in a tree, of all places. But I've finally figured out what's going on in his head. No more accidents from here on out!" He paused, then drew away from Ferb and gave Candace a sheepish look. "Well, I can't _guarantee_ that. But I know how to prevent it, at the very least. Everything should be alright."

Oh, yes. Everything would be alright. How many times had he said that in his murmurings after the accident? How many times had Candace heard him saying it from behind his locked door, his voice a mixture of excitement and shattered dreams? And was it alright? Has it ever been alright?

He was watching her, smiling, waiting for a response. Ferb was looking away.

"That's… that's great, Phineas," said Candace as she tapped her fingers against her mug. "What, um… what was the problem?"

"Basic instinct! Can you believe it?" Phineas broke away from his brother, then, and headed into the kitchen, towards the fridge. "I thought it was some glitch, you know, a mistake - I mean, I guess it is, in a way. But it mostly has to do with the 'fight or flight' instinct. You know what that is, right?" His question wasn't condescending; it was genuine, a sincere wonder. In the past it could have been taken as an insult anyway, but now...

Candace looked down at the floor and sighed. "Uh, yeah. That one summer when Mom made me go to that therapy group, they talked about different kinds of anxiety and what causes it." The memory of it made her eyes sting, but nothing came of it, she was past those days. Sometimes it was just such a toll to not be believed when the truth was always so close. And _had_ she been believed…

Phineas closed the fridge door, two sodas in hand, and came back over to the table. "Well, turns out Ferb's anxiety has been pretty exacerbated lately. Huh, Ferb?"

As he had done so many times in the past, Phineas tossed the extra soda to his brother, and without a thought Ferb threw up a hand to catch it, just as it had always been. Unfortunately, it was his right hand he chose, and when he gripped the can with his new fingers, it crumpled and burst, the soda hissing out and coating the chairs and floor with sticky bubbles.

Candace couldn't help the surprised yelp she let out at the sound, and she was instantly on her feet, just barely avoiding the mess as she moved.

There was dead silence for a moment, save for the steady drip of what remained in the can falling to the ground. Ferb was a mix of surprised and mortified, his eye wide as he took in what had happened - what he had done. Candace couldn't take her eyes off of him.

And then it was broken as Phineas swept towards them both and placed a hand on Ferb's back. "Still gotta work on that power, huh? I'll see if I can tone it down a bit - you know, like training wheels for your arm." He was smiling, always smiling, on the verge of laughing, even. If he noticed how still his siblings had become, or the horror on their faces, he made no show of it.

Ferb didn't reply, didn't even respond in the slightest as he stared at his hand, the one with the broken can in it, still dripping - what did he see as he uncurled his fingers? His eye reflected a warped logo, but beyond that Candace wondered if he saw jagged scrap covered in blood. He was gone by then, certainly, but he knew what had happened - could he imagine it as vividly as it had been seen, as she herself had seen it?

And then he was moving, darting for the kitchen as the remains of the can fell onto the table, the sound not unlike stray metal breaking free and falling into the drenched grass below it.

Or was it the sound of shattered bones being tossed to the earth? He hadn't even intended to do it, had only meant to grab it out of the air. And it burst in his hand like a balloon.

"Pretty impressive, isn't it?"

Candace looked up at Phineas's smiling face as he cracked his own soda open and took a swig. He was _proud._ She knew she shouldn't have been surprised by it, not after what she'd seen and heard, but it still came as a shock that he saw so little beyond his handiwork - as if the destruction and danger was mere fantasy.

"That arm could stop a train, probably," he continued as he leaned over to admire the can. "I mean, I haven't tested that or anything, it's not like I wanna put Ferb in danger. But it's got some serious power in it. Remember that time we got to help save everyone from all those villains? It's kinda like he's half Iron Man now…"

There was a song Candace had heard once, it was called "Iron Man," and it was _about_ Iron Man, but there was nothing fun or super hero-y about it and it didn't match the Tony Stark she'd actually met at all. It was dark and violent, Iron Man killing those who opposed him and feared him. She thought of that, now, as Phineas babbled on about his work.

No. No, Ferb wasn't like that, he was still _Ferb._ Candace _knew_ that, she had to know it, had to _believe_ it. He was still her brother. Her quiet, intelligent, handy, quirky brother. Not… _that._ Not some monster created out of hate and fueled by revenge. Meeting Iron Man back then had been so wonderful, meeting _all_ the heroes had been wonderful, and Ferb was certainly a hero in his own right -

And then he was back, a roll of paper towels in hand, and he knelt between them and began to wipe up the mess in a frenzy, the light of his optic bouncing up and down on the linoleum floor.

There was fear in him. Candace saw it, now, as her brother tore at the paper towels with shaking fingers, the metal planted firmly on the floor. But fear of what? Himself? Or the way others saw him? Both, maybe, Candace thought as she watched Ferb curl his body closer to the floor as he worked, making himself as small as possible when all eyes were upon him. In the days _before,_ he had always dominated the spotlight were it offered to him, but now he was a shadow encompassing a glimmering orb, darkness around a wayward spirit that fled from the light. He dodged all attempts to be seen, to be heard, to be known - yet even when he was unaware he was being watched he still had that way of moving and pausing to indicate that all was not well. She'd seen him through the windows, in the backyard, fidgeting about whatever Phineas wanted to do or just… staring into the distance, as though it might offer answers to questions she could only imagine might be on his mind.

It was all so _clear_ in an instant, in that moment of watching Ferb fall to the floor to fix his own mistake. He was _afraid._ And fear… fear was something Candace knew so well, had battled so much in her life. For all the terror surrounding what Ferb had become, at the core, he was just as frightened as her, and… that was such a _human_ response.

Candace shook her head and looked up, away from Ferb. He would certainly feel those eyes on his back, and why make it worse for him when it was obviously already so bad? She knew the pressure of being watched in times of distress, how two eyes could suddenly become two thousand in her mind…

Her other brother had obviously not come to the same conclusion, as he was watching Ferb in earnest as he drank his soda. Phineas _wasn't_ afraid, or if he was, he was hiding it exceptionally well. Yet Candace doubted there was anything so… realistic inside of him. His only worries related to Ferb, now, and for all intents and purposes Ferb was fine - at least, in Phineas's mind. The stitches, the bruises, the grey skin, the metal, the wires - all means to an end, to him. Ferb was alive. Ferb was well. And Ferb was now safely back inside with his strange outbursts explained, so what did Phineas have to fear? With all the power in the universe at his fingertips, what did he ever have to fear?

A chill ran down Candace's spine.

"Here, lemme help," Phineas said as he set his soda down and knelt beside Ferb. They seemed to lock eyes for a moment, but Ferb didn't linger, and Phineas didn't either.

And Phineas talked, as he always did. He chattered on about high-tech alternatives to paper towels, things they could put together in minutes that would absorb everything in seconds, and he moved on to talk of liquid-proof wood sealants and then the origin of linoleum, and Candace could just barely listen to him because her mind was on so many other things. She considered helping them, but by the time the thought crossed her mind, they were both standing up and Ferb was walking away to toss out the used paper towels and put the rest away.

Phineas returned to his soda and downed what he hadn't yet finished in just a few gulps. Then he paused, burped, and started laughing like it was the funniest thing he'd ever done. Candace watched as Ferb returned to take the now-empty can, along with the destroyed one on the table, and Phineas was still laughing as Ferb walked back to the kitchen to throw them away.

Never before had it been eerie to hear any kind of laughter in their home, but it was, now, after all that had happened. After Phineas, laying in his hospital bed after the accident, had let loose with a horrible howling laugh as he assured the whole family he could fix everything. This laugh was different than that, but somehow still the same, at least in Candace's mind. It _felt_ the same. And why?

Because _Phineas_ was the monster.

The revelation came like a ton of bricks straight at her head, and she shoved it away almost instantly. Her baby brother was not a monster. For all he had done and been through, he was no such thing. There _was_ no monster. That was the real revelation, wasn't it? Knowing her brothers were still human, and that they'd merely been through bad times? If she could accept Ferb being a reanimated corpse, surely she could accept Phineas's fragile mentality.

Yet for all the things she understood, there was still the memory of Isabella's voice in her mind, full of tears and horror -

_He watched the whole thing! He watched it happen and he didn't do anything! He just walked away when it was over!_

Sure, maybe he was paralyzed with fear, but deep in her mind Candace knew that wasn't the case. It wasn't fear in Phineas's eyes when Dad asked him if he wanted to go visit his friends in the hospital and he said no.

It was indifference.

"We're gonna head upstairs," said Phineas, and only then did Candace realize he'd stopped laughing and the house had been silent for several moments as she stared at the wall behind her brother. "Got some stuff to work on."

"Okay," Candace replied as she fidgeted with her sleeves. "Stay out of trouble."

Phineas snickered and rolled his eyes, mouthing 'sure' as he turned to head for the stairs.

Ferb was still in the dining room, oddly still, his eye going from the table to the floor to Phineas and then finally to his sister's face. They locked eyes, and for the first time since the day he'd come back, Candace didn't feel so afraid.

"...I'm sorry," Ferb murmured, his eye focusing elsewhere again as he seemed to try and gather up his nerves. "I - If I had known - I never meant to…"

Whether he was apologizing for the soda or for everything, Candace didn't know. But it didn't matter.

"It's alright," she said, and then he was looking at her again. "It's… it's not your fault, Ferb. You go keep an eye on Phineas, okay?"

Now his expression was unreadable as he studied her, and the fear came back in just the tiniest amount, rolling about in her stomach as she waited for a reply. They hadn't directly talked since at least the day _before_ his death. Anticipating how he might respond was nearly impossible.

"...Okay," he finally said, and Candace could see him visibly relax, if only a bit. He seemed about to say more, like he _wanted_ to, but after a moment's hesitation he merely nodded to her and made a quick turn for the stairs. Phineas had already vanished but was surely waiting at the top for him. They were never apart for long.

Her cocoa was cold by the time she returned to it, but Candace took a sip anyway as she sat back down. There were a million other things she could do, but waiting at the dining room table for something else to happen seemed like the best plan for that moment. Her parents were still absent, after all… and unless they _were_ just hiding somewhere in the house, it was getting a bit late for them to be out.

Candace took her phone out of her pocket to check the time, but the notification that she'd received new texts was instantly her new focus. There were two - one from Stacy, and one from Jeremy.

Both had offered to also put their schooling on hold and join Candace back in Danville, but after the funeral she had sent them away with the assurance that she would be fine and that they needed to keep going. Stacy, truly the best friend forever, was going to the same college as Candace; Jeremy was elsewhere, and farther away, though never out of reach.

Though there had been hesitation, Candace had informed them both of the goings on that had transpired in their absence, and for once she'd been the calmest one of the three of them.

Stacy's text was simple: 'hey candy how r u doin?'

The reply was sure to be much less simple. To be honest, Candace didn't _know_ how she was doing. Everything was a confused mess of emotion and happenings. And even if she did know how to summarize her current state, she wasn't sure she wanted to worry her best friend with her fears. Not this time. With a small sigh, Candace backed out of Stacy's thread and selected Jeremy's.

'I saw the news. He looks as bad as you said. How are Baljeet and Buford? I love you.'

Of course he saw the news. He was always checking their local station online because he was worried about what was going on. Candace didn't know how to respond to him, either, and for a few long moments she stared at her phone in utter hopelessness.

A chatter at the side of her chair pulled her away from the small screen, and there was Perry, his eyes a little focused but still in opposite directions as he looked up at her.

"Oh, there you are, Perry."

He chattered again, then clambered into her lap and curled up against her sweater. His feet were cold, and in his fur were a few small leaves and brambles. Candace brushed them away without a thought.

* * *

Ferb closed the door to his and Phineas's bedroom once he was inside, his body tensing up again as he saw Phineas sit down on his bed and start unzipping the windbreaker he wore. There were several years between now and when the feelings had begun, and Ferb had mastered the art of controlling or or even crushing his awkward feelings - especially when Phineas was undressing - but it was different, now, because Phineas _knew._ The fact that it didn't bother him hardly felt relevant.

The shirt under the jacket was simple, just a dark red t-shirt with even darker edges that were meant to look like blood stains. It was entirely plausible and quite likely that Phineas hadn't given it any thought as he threw it on, and even more likely that at some point he would make some sort of joke about it that would just be uncomfortable. That was how things were. How they might always be, now, but hadn't they always been? Phineas was no idiot, but small details often escaped him even when they were clear as day -

In his frantic thought, Ferb's grip had tightened on the doorknob to the point where his fingers ached, and he realized then that he'd also been staring vacantly and in terror at no spot in particular.

"Relax, dude," Phineas said with a smile as he patted the spot next to him. "Everything's alright."

It wasn't easy to get his legs moving again with anxiety and unease coursing through his veins, but Ferb managed to push himself over to his bed and sit by his brother (nearly bouncing Phineas off the bed as he did). "Easy for you to say. You didn't just confess your darkest secret to the last person you wanted to confess it to. Or crush a soda can by trying to gently grab it and terrify your sister in the process." He spoke now as he always had, but the underlying emotions behind what he said were obvious enough to the one who'd always known him better than anyone.

Phineas put a hand on Ferb's shoulder - the left one, the _real_ one - and gave it a comforting rub. "It's really not all that bad," he assured. "This is just another exciting adventure for us. And the soda thing was pretty cool."

Ferb grit his teeth and wondered, in the back of his mind, if he should shrug Phineas's hand off or revel in its presence. The decision went unmade as he shook his head in frustration. "You don't _get_ it. This isn't _right._ It never has been. All these years, with everyone I've been with, I've thought of _you_ \- my _brother,_ blood or not - and when I tell you it's like none of that matters!"

"Do you really _want_ it to?"

Through the optic, Ferb could see every detail of the way Phineas lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head, every small crease and hair, and the multiple hues of his eyes… the way midnight blue rose up against the faintest hints of sky, forming a gorgeous oceanic volcano around lava of the deepest black…

...just like the abyss. The nothingness.

Ferb closed his eye tight, the optic clicking off along with it, and let out a shaky breath.

When Phineas spoke again, his voice was soft, along with the touch of his fingers as they slipped down Ferb's back. "Those things _do_ matter," he said, "but not in a way that has to impact what happens _now_. Life is all about moving forward - remember the thing with the sharks? They have to keep going or they drown? If we stop now to consider all the barriers that are supposed to be in the way of this, we're just going to get sunk down into those feelings and stay there." He paused, his fingers going still, then traced a seam on the side of Ferb's shirt. "Beyond society's assertion that this is _wrong_ , I don't see any problems. And I'd do anything - _anything_ \- to make you happy."

In just a fraction of a second Ferb was back on his feet, pacing in front of the bed as Phineas pondered the empty space under his palm with dazed confusion.

"No, no, no! You can't do this for _me!_ Don't you get it?" Ferb halted in front of the bed and briefly made eye contact with his brother, who still seemed surprised by the sudden move and hadn't even lowered his hand yet. "A real relationship - it's not about making one person happy! It's about… it's about mutual fondness, and a willingness to _be_ , and…"

"You're talking like we don't already have those things."

Ferb threw his hands in the air and continued pacing. "It's different, Phineas! _Everything_ is different now! Romance isn't the same as being best friends any more than being whatever the hell I am is the same as being alive!"

Now Phineas stood too, his hands finding Ferb's shoulders and pulling him close. "You're panicking," he said in a quiet voice. "It'll be alright. Everything is fine."

But it wasn't. Nothing was fine and surely Phineas had to know on _some_ level. This was wrong, it was all wrong, the world had gone crazy and Ferb wasn't sure if it started after the summer when he left for England or when he'd been crushed under all that scrap metal. It could have _just_ been the issue of liking Phineas _that way,_ but the way the can had burst and the way Phineas even found out about his feelings… no, it was both things, _all_ things, all at once.

"Ferb."

Warm hands found their way to his cheeks, ignoring the scars and stitching and merely bringing him closer. As they locked eyes, Ferb could see worry in his brother, and in a moment he realized why - his panic could escalate into another shut-down, couldn't it? And what then? Would he jump through the window and run through town, or would he…

A vivid picture of their room painted in blood crossed his mind, Phineas laying in the center, torn and frayed like an old dog toy.

Ferb closed his eye so tight that it hurt and let out a shaking breath that stank of copper and wires and death and bubblegum toothpaste.

"Do you want to try kissing now?" Phineas's voice was gentle and reassuring, his thumbs rubbing Ferb's cheekbones in small circles. "Maybe get your mind off of all this?"

And there it was again, that mixture of excitement and revulsion Phineas kept making him feel.

"It's not that easy," he hissed as he took Phineas's hands off of his face and held them tight. "Can't you open your eyes for one moment and take a look at what's happening? What already _happened?_ We can't just… start experimenting with my perverseness in the hopes that it will all go away! I'm - "

Phineas kissed him.

It was by no means perfect; it was wet and forceful and really just sort of mashed their lips together more than anything. Not that Ferb could have expected any different. Phineas had never been in romantic relationships before, had never kissed anyone on anything but their cheek or their hand - he was new to this, fumbling in the dark in a room he'd never been in before. And even though a large part of Ferb was still worked up and was even a little offended that Phineas would do this, there was another part of him - a very desperate, yearning part - that ached to demonstrate how this was actually supposed to go. And that was what won, in the end.

When Phineas pulled away, Ferb brought him back, and within a few moments his brother was copying the movement of his lips instead of just seeing how hard he could press their faces together. With new knowledge came power, and Phineas was in the leading role soon enough, his hands finding their way to places Ferb had always yearned for them to be; in his hair, along his back, stuffed into his back pocket to pull his hips closer as they stumbled towards Ferb's bed.

It was such a whirlwind of sensation and desire that Ferb didn't resist the fall onto his mattress, but when their lips collided again it was too hard, and his teeth dug into the soft flesh of his bottom lip before he had a chance to open his mouth. Phineas pulled back, surprised, as Ferb grunted in pain, but the pause lasted barely a second before Phineas was forcing his tongue into his brother's mouth and tasting the blood for himself - not even real blood, but the substitute he had created, something sweet but sharp, like antifreeze. Ferb let out a panicked sound in his surprise and almost pushed Phineas back off, but his desperation and hormones won out over his sense and soon he was reciprocating the kiss with just as much force. He even went so far as to sling one leg around Phineas's waist to pull their groins together, revealing just how excited and worked up the both of them had become.

Shame stirred somewhere deep in his mind. Shame and fear and self-loathing, and the knowledge of what he was, and who _they_ were, and yet at the same time none of these things could truly surface. In the heat of the moment it was almost as though a blanket had settled over everything that was wrong and had turned it into something else entirely, something sick and twisted but perfect all the same.

For a moment, the nightmare had turned into a dream.


	12. True or False

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who are you _really_ lying to?

Ferb Flynn-Fletcher Progress Report 001

Written by Agent Perry the Platypus

It has been over a week since Ferb's reanimation.

All systems seem to be performing well. Phineas regularly does maintenance and is always at work to improve what he has manufactured for this particular project. While in his presence I have heard talk of synthetic skin covers for the robotic limbs and an eventual replacement for the optic that will more closely resemble a normal human eye. With some time, perhaps within only a few days, Ferb should begin looking a bit more ordinary.

Ferb acts as he did before the accident without any real deviation aside from the occasional anxiety spell over what has been done to him, but I've had suspicions that he was prone to anxiety beforehand. He is fully aware of the inherent "wrongness" of his reanimation and often appears to consider the moral implications of such. This further implies his general lack of change, at least mentally, in comparison to who he was before his death occurred.

If there is any problem at all with the situation, it lies within Phineas, who has become somewhat unstable in the wake of the accident and seems to have lost track of his moral compass. To be fair, his morality was always somewhat questionable in certain circumstances, so the change is not entirely unexpected or surprising. Ferb's reanimation has had an objectively positive effect on Phineas's mental state and I am fully confident that he will return to normal within a reasonable amount of time. They have always depended upon one another and feed off of each other's emotions. Phineas will stabilize, and in doing so, will calm Ferb's anxiety, which will further Phineas's stabilization and so on. Until then I will make sure to keep Phineas on the right track as I have done for so many years.

Perhaps due to the reek of blood and decay that hasn't fully been dealt with as of yet, a feral bear broke into the back yard at the beginning of this week with obvious intent to kill. As I was within the presence of the boys and their friends, I could not attempt to communicate with the bear and instead had to resort to helping them fend it off. Ferb performed spectacularly during this battle and left the bear with plenty of wounds and broken bones, ultimately causing it to leave - but not before two of the previously mentioned friends were injured as well. Baljeet Tjinder and Buford van Stomm are still in the hospital to my knowledge and may not be let out for some time. Due to the current obligations on maintaining Ferb and the fractured familial bonds in the house, neither of the boys has visited their friends and thus I am currently unaware of their exact condition. I would like to request that the local bears be monitored more closely in the future, as well as any other non-agent predators.

My last contact with Dr. Doofenshmirtz remains the day of the funeral. I do not know if he is aware of Ferb or if he has any plans regarding Ferb. In my personal, but professional opinion, I do not believe that Dr. Doofenshmirtz will ever take any evil interest in the situation. He is highly proficient with robots as it is, and knowing him as well as I do, I believe the thought of reanimation of the dead would be found disturbing and/or disgusting by him. In any case, there has yet to be a plan of his we have not discovered and foiled in time, and I have my doubts that he has suddenly become more competent in both discretion and evil within the past month or so. No increased surveillance should be necessary, and because of the current situation and the cause of such I would request that I not be sent on missions to foil anything else he may come up with unless it is indeed related to Ferb, my family, or reanimation of the dead.

Worries regarding these circumstances should be kept to a minimum if at all possible. While death and desecration of the dead - if this can be called that - are sensitive subjects to humans, it is not so in the animal world. Everybody must be useful, alive or dead. Ferb's body went from being a corpse in the ground to being a fully-functional human being who has lost little, if any brainpower due to Phineas's considerable talents in the field of science. This is a thing to celebrate, not to fear, as I believe. I understand that this may take some time for all humans involved, whether it be for moral or spiritual reasons, but what has been done is done and we should embrace it. What has occurred within the confines of the Flynn-Fletcher back yard is something many might refer to as a "miracle." There is no need to interfere with it unless something goes horribly wrong, which I highly doubt given my observations so far.

I will continue said observations and submit weekly reports as requested. However, I am sure you will soon find this unnecessary and we will be able to go back to where we were prior to everything that has happened. I can assure you and all other O.W.C.A. personnel that I know these boys well enough to be positive this will all work out just fine.

\- Agent P

* * *

_Perry's Journal #13, Entry 302_

It's been about a week since Phineas brought Ferb back.

I was excited, at first, and to be honest I still feel that way to some degree. My boy is back - the nightmares about that awful body bag and the scrap pile and the blood have become few and far between, and the replacements are generally much happier, if a bit morbid. All things considered it's like we can finally be a family again. The past month has been a living Hell.

Things aren't all so optimistic, though. How could they be? The only one of us ever able to bounce back from things anything like this has always been Phineas. He's definitely bounced back, too, but he lost a bit of his sanity along the way and I'm extremely worried. I don't know what I can do but hope that his mind clears with time. Besides him, though... Everyone handles it differently. Lawrence is the only one who seems truly HAPPY about it, besides Phineas, and he doesn't even seem to mind the supposed moral implications or whatever it is Monogram has been griping about.

Candace and Linda are the ones taking it the hardest. Linda especially, the way she cries when she sees Ferb and whispers about how afraid she is when he isn't nearby. She's become scared of her own shadow - as though she believes he may be behind her at any time like a viper ready to strike. And she didn't even see what he did to Baljeet and Buford. Candace did, though; she was the one who called 911. I still can't believe she hasn't ratted them out... It seems that her love for her brothers is more powerful than her urge to "bust" them. I think it may have always been that way... It's just hard to tell, the way those two things intersect. I guess this time she decided busting them WOULDN'T be for the best. She was right, in any case. If this somehow got public the way it is now...

This is a wreck. It's good, but it's bad, and my obligations to my boys are conflicting heavily with my obligations to the O.W.C.A. Ferb is a massive hazard the way he is, or has become, I'm not sure. Someone could die next time. What then? Would Phineas bring them back, too? I want to believe he would, but after seeing the blank way he watched Ferb attack their friends... I'm not so sure. I don't know if he cares enough to extend any of this to anyone but Ferb. For land's sake, he created a perfect blood substitute! Can you imagine the good that could do for the entire human race, if not the entire world? But that isn't how Phineas thinks, because it has nothing to do with Ferb. Ferb is his entire world now. Not that he wasn't before, but this is DIFFERENT _._ This is obsession like I've never seen before. He's shutting out the entire world, the world he's explored and catered to and LOVED _,_ all for the sake of someone who doesn't even need that much focus. Ferb is functioning. Besides these... blackouts, or whatever they are, he's been fine. Same as ever.

Fuck

I can't write that as if I don't understand. I'm a hypocrite to pretend I don't get it. We LOST Ferb. He DIED. Phineas is focusing on him like this because he never wants it to happen again... and I'm doing the same thing. I'm lying to the O.W.C.A. and spending all my time at home, watching them, PROTECTING them. I can't lose either of my boys again. I can't. They're my everything. And there's nothing I won't do to make sure they're safe and sound and where they BELONG.

I have to keep my head on straight. I'm the voice of reason, aren't I? Or the chatter of reason, I suppose, but it still stands... I'm the calm one. The one who thinks on his feet. If I lose it there's no telling what sort of chaos will happen. Not to put so much importance on myself, but no one even REALIZES how much I keep things ~~stitched~~ tied together. None of them even KNOW the LENGTHS I go to to keep their worlds standing UPRIGHT

No. No anger. Calm. I have to remain calm.

Not that it matters, at least here. Who's ever going to read this chicken-scratch anyway? I've kept these journals hidden for over, what, fifteen years? Not that the first few years were anything like this. Like it would have even mattered if anyone saw those.

~~I wish I could go back~~

I just dug the first one out of the bin. It looks so old now. The papers are tattered, the binding is wrecked… I was endearingly serious, though. It's a good read.

"First day with host family. Two boys, one girl, Mom and Dad. They suspect nothing. My wall-eyed technique is impenetrable."

That was the first entry, or at least I THINK it was. It's definitely the first but my handwriting was so awful I can barely make it out. I'm pretty sure I misspelled impenetrable, but I can't tell exactly HOW. What a mess.

It's mostly describing the house and the family from there on out. I used to be afraid of mentioning anything directly O.W.C.A. related because I really thought my journal might be found and I'd be relocated and demoted within my first year. I wonder when that changed… probably by the second or third journal.

I've got the second now. I didn't know how to obtain a new one after I'd filled up the first, so I just found an empty one in Candace's bedroom and took it. She probably got it for her birthday, the poor girl. No doubt she fully expected I was the culprit behind its disappearance; I'd taken other items for different purposes and had usually been caught with them.

It's flowery and pink and the binding has held up better than the other one. The first entry is a heroic re-telling of the super-secret "obtain new journal" mission. Can't believe how I exaggerated everything. ~~I sound like~~

There's a lot happening in this one. My body was maturing and I was being heavily trained for my real agent work, getting set up for my first nemesis. It was ~~Heinz~~ Dr. Doofenshmirtz, of course. And it always was, because I never thwarted him ~~and that's why this all fucking happened~~ permanently - I don't think many agents have done that. Hell, I don't personally know any that have. I mean, yeah, it happens - villains go to jail or die or repent - but it doesn't happen OFTEN. At least not in the O.W.C.A.

I wrote up a full personal report on my first mission. I'm sure most of it is just as exaggerated as the rest of this journal. I probably just bit his ankle and bent the prongs on the plug to whatever he built. There was a lot of annoyance and hate back then… not like that didn't continue, of course, because it did, for a long time. But it changed. WE changed.

~~I miss him. I hate this. I hate being so fucking angry. It was just as much my fault as his and I know it was, if I had let things go as they usually did Ferb never would have died and everything would be perfectly fine, my boys would be okay and I would be with Heinz right now~~

It's not really common in the animal world to engage in a bit of nostalgia. I really shouldn't pretend I'm a normal animal, though. As if I haven't gone over this during major stress in these journals before. I'm some kind of genetic freak. I don't regret most of it, but I don't… fit in. Anywhere. ~~Except with him, because he gets it, somehow he GETS it~~ I'm not an animal and I'm not a man. I'm a platypus with thumbs and a semi-human brain. And there's the lifespan thing the boys did, but coupled with what I've already got I'm thankful for it. The idea of dying before they even went to college was… frightening.

Everything is frightening now. The life I knew is hanging by a thread and it's fraying and twisting and I don't know how much longer I can keep up this pretense that everything will somehow be alright. This isn't like anything that's ever happened before. Even into their teenage years, Phineas and Ferb's inventions and adventures were full of innocence and child-like wonder. They continued going into space and under the sea and everything and everywhere in between, and they re-created classic toys and lived out entire careers within a day and just kept DREAMING. But this isn't a dream. It's a nightmare. And this is just the first week, just the beginning. This past month was the prologue and now it's the first chapter, and this is going to be a NOVEL. The images of hope and happiness and life on the back of our eyelids are fading away into blackness.

If there's one thing I've gained from being an animal, it's knowing about weird things like the weather and the way people are feeling.

There's a storm coming.


	13. Impatient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything happens so fast.

For a few days, everything was quiet.

News that Buford and Baljeet would be leaving the hospital reached the boys through the grapevine, traveling from somewhere in their mother's friend group to Candace, who told them in passing one night as they ventured from their room for food. Her motivations in telling them were unclear; she knew what had happened. What had _really_ happened. Though maybe she also knew that it was an accident? Perhaps she thought they would want to apologize...

But Phineas didn't care, and Ferb was too afraid.

Ferb found solace in his brother's arms in the passing of each dreary day. His shame and disgust with himself remained ever present in the back of his mind and whatever remained of his gut, but it was all too easy to fall into Phineas's welcoming embrace and lose himself in the freckles dusting his brother's face. Being able to give into his fantasies after so long was... liberating. In a way, it felt like some kind of reward for being able to withstand the insanity that his life had become. A horrible reward that he didn't deserve, but a reward nonetheless, and one he was all too eager to partake in now that the walls were finally breaking down.

On the day that their friends - if they could still be considered as such - were supposed to be released, there was a light drizzle that pattered on their bedroom window and blocked out most of the sun. Ferb found himself drawn to it, and spent a long time with his elbows on the windowsill, gazing out into the gloom and thinking about his life and what it had become. Perry was at his feet for a while, but eventually moved to Ferb's bed and settled there. He was always close, always keeping an eye on his boys - even when they kicked him out of the room, he was always right outside, waiting for their return.

"Fuck," Phineas swore from the desk at the other end of the room.

"Language," Ferb said as he turned around to look at his brother. Phineas was hunched over blueprint paper and scribbling furiously. All his failed attempts, from before and now, were littered about his workspace or part of the leaning tower of trash looming over the top of the wastebasket. "Who taught you to speak like that?"

"Very funny," Phineas said without looking up. He scribbled something else, sighed, then scribbled over it in a fury. "This is awful. I'm terrible at designing advanced robotics! Can't you do this?"

Ferb meandered over to his brother and peered over his shoulder. Amidst the scribbles and scratches was the rough outline of a new mechanical arm, something more advanced than what Ferb already had. Yet as he tapped the fingers of his right hand on the back of Phineas's wooden chair and listened to the clunking sound it made, he thought that he really didn't _need_ anything more than what he had, regardless of what Phineas had said about "training wheels" for his arm.

"You're not terrible," Ferb said. "Just impatient. And in any case..." He held his arm out next to Phineas's head and flexed his fingers. "I don't think I _need_ a new one. This one works fine."

Phineas turned to look at the arm, then grabbed it with both hands and brought it down so he could inspect it further. "But it's _lacking,_ " he said as he drew his fingers across its panels and rivets. Ferb was almost frightened by how much of it he could actually feel; he was still getting used to all the sensations from his mechanical parts. "It was made to serve a single function... to be a replacement for a flesh-and-bone arm. I still tried to make improvements, but they obviously weren't made _right_..."

"You mean the freakish strength?"

"Yeah." Phineas slipped his fingers between Ferb's and held his hand tight, and Ferb refrained from returning the gesture for that very reason. "I thought that was how it _should_ be, but you should _also_ have more control over it. I obviously did something wrong. I mean, it's impressive, but for you to not even be doing it on purpose..."

Ferb frowned and pulled his arm back. Phineas didn't seem eager to let it go, but it finally made him look up at Ferb's face. As usual, he looked exhausted - even with more regular sleep, the bags under his eyes weren't going away any time soon. He had spent too long pushing himself too hard.

"Phineas, it's not _my_ arm," Ferb said, his optic zooming in on the palm of his robotic hand as he looked at it. "Or at least it isn't the arm I've had my entire life. It's understandable for me to be a bit unaware of my own strength if it's nothing like I had before. I know I've had my problems with it, but I'm coming to terms with the changes. You're being _impatient._ "

"You keep saying that," Phineas sighed. "I spent a _month_ bringing you back. I _had_ to be patient. How am I being _im_ patient now?"

Ferb lowered his arm and reached up to brush his brother's hair away from his face with his real hand. There was a moment where he hesitated, still unsure of his own boundaries and what he should really be allowing himself to do, and then he leaned down and kissed Phineas's forehead. Phineas made a small sound of protest and slung both hands over Ferb's bicep as if to pull his arm away, but traced his fingers over the scars there instead.

"You always want immediate results," Ferb whispered against his brother's skin. "You never want to _wait_. You rush things, you complete them as fast as possible - you do realize how quick a _month_ is, don't you? To bring someone..." His voice faltered, and he stopped speaking and pulled himself away.

Phineas's bangs flopped back down over his eyes, and with an annoyed sigh he brushed them aside, only to have them spring back into the same position. "A month is _ages!_ I've done more complex things in a day! It's just that I had _you_ for those things. You're just better at..." He sighed again, threw his hands in the air, then turned back to the desk. "Being patient, I guess."

Ferb grabbed the back of the chair and tipped it backwards, causing Phineas to yelp in surprise. "I am," he said as Phineas stared up at him, wide-eyed. "After all, how else would I deal with you?"

Phineas continued to stare for a long moment, then burst out laughing as he relaxed once more into his seat. "You're an ass!" he said, grinning from ear-to-ear. "You know that? You're just made entirely of sarcasm and dry wit!"

"And anxiety," Ferb corrected, and Phineas laughed again.

Ferb continued holding the chair as his brother laughed. When the gale began to die down, Phineas turned his head and saw that Ferb was holding the chair up with his left arm, muscles straining as he did. Then he looked up at his brother, mouth open to ask a question, but Ferb looked away.

There was a tense moment of silence, and then Ferb tipped the chair back into its rightful position.

"... I just... I'm afraid I'll hurt you," he said in response to the question that wasn't asked, his left hand going over the metal of his right arm.

Phineas's lips smoothed out into a straight line and his brows furrowed. In a firm voice, resolute and sure, he said, "That's what I want to fix. Don't you see?" He turned back to the desk and picked the blueprint up from under the mess surrounding it. "Failsafes, safety mechanisms, a better hookup to your neural components - _that's_ what I'm trying to do, Ferb. And if I'm too impatient to figure it out, can't _you_ try?"

Ferb considered the past few weeks in his mind.

They hadn't built a thing since he'd come back. They'd gone on no adventures, asked no questions that needed complex answers. The most they'd done was begin to work through Ferb's myriad of confusing emotions, and that in itself felt... Subdued. Difficult, yet so much simpler than the things they usually engaged in. Harder, but less... _Phineas and Ferb._ Less what they were known for, more "normal people doing normal things".

Aside from the incest part of it, anyway.

Ferb found himself reluctant to resume their normal agenda because nothing _felt_ normal. Everything was changing, and to go back - to be who he was before the accident - felt impossible. Yet Phineas still didn't grasp that, and probably never would; he had done everything the way he had done it specifically so they _could_ go back to normal.

And even as wary as Ferb felt about it all, he hated to deny his brother what he wanted.

"...I guess I can take a stab at it," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck with nervous fingers. "But," he said as Phineas began to smile, "I don't want to start right this instant. I need to... I don't know. I need to clear my head."

"You're the best!" Phineas exclaimed in joy as he stood up and pulled Ferb into an embrace. "You'll see, it'll work great! We'll make _amazing_ things together again!"

Ferb exhaled hard through his nose and patted his brother on the back, then gave in and returned the hug with both arms, his right over his left.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" Phineas proposed as he rested his head against Ferb's chest. "Perfect thing to clear your head, right? And I bet Perry could use the outdoor time, too."

Perry lifted his head off of Ferb's bed and chattered.

"...Maybe," Ferb said, his voice a little tight. "I..." He hesitated, his gaze shifting off to the side. "...I don't know how eager I am to have people see me, Phineas. I don't think... I'm pretty sure no one outside of our family and friends knows about me."

"Aw, c'mon, it's almost nighttime!" Phineas pulled back and turned his brother around to face the window, and Ferb saw that it was, indeed, just about dusk. The rain had stopped, too, though it was sure to start again in no time with the way the weather had been.

"I guess," Ferb relented, and Phineas squeezed him from behind.

"We can hold hands," Phineas said as he linked his own hands together over Ferb's midsection. "And talk about things."

"Normal things?"

"Define 'normal', and sure."

Ferb chuckled, but inside, he felt uneasy. People might have caught glimpses of him the day he ran away, but going out for a casual walk _..._ What about the people coming home? Or the teenagers out late at night? Any number of people could see him, would notice that horrible blue glow in the darkness and wonder what it was... All the same, he was tired of being cooped up in the house, even if it was his own decision. Maybe the fresh air would be a good thing.

Or a disaster.

It was so hard to tell the two apart these days.

* * *

As the sun began to set, the Garcia-Shapiro house was bustling with activity.

Baljeet and Buford, both weary and heavily bandaged, sat side-by-side on the couch with the rest of their friends gathered around them. Isabella and the Fireside Girls she had invited made up the majority of the group, but Irving was there as well, sitting near Isabella but not too close because the other girls made angry faces at him when he tried.

"I was watchin' him the whole time," Buford was saying as the others listened with rapt attention. "He looked kinda nervous at first, but then he started lookin'... I dunno. Like he was about to fall over. And then, all of a sudden, he got this completely blank look on his face and shoved Phineas away from Isabella."

"I barely remember that," Isabella said with a shaky sigh. "I just... I was talking to Phineas, and then _you_ were pushing _me_ out of the way." She had already heard some of his account while visiting the both of them in the hospital, but Buford was usually too tired or too worked up to give her everything.

"I had to," Buford said. "I mean, he was about to hit you. I barely saw it in time, y'know? And then _this_ idiot..."

"I am not an idiot!" Baljeet countered. His outrage was short-lived, and he laid back against the couch cushions like he was completely exhausted. "I am your _friend._ And I was trying to protect you."

"You're both so heroic," said Ginger, a hand placed over her heart. "I can't believe you put yourselves in the way of danger like that."

"This all sounds like some kind of twisted horror story," said Adyson as she shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know how no one was freaking out _before_ the zombie went crazy."

Irving was the one to pipe up next. "Actually," he said, "he's not a zombie. More of a cyborg, really. You see, he's completely alive, and made partially of robotic enhancements..."

A few hard stares in his direction made him go quiet.

Isabella looked around the room, then stood up from her place by the couch. "Buford, Baljeet, thank you so much for coming here today," she said as she put a hand on Buford's shoulder. "You really should be at home, resting..."

"Not a chance," Buford said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Everyone deserves to know what happened. Ferb ain't safe - hell, I don't even know if he's _Ferb_ anymore."

There were mutters amongst the girls as they considered this possibility. Irving looked upset by the statement, but he stayed quiet, well aware that his differing input wasn't entirely welcome. It certainly hadn't been taken well when he was alone with Isabella, and he doubted anyone else would appreciate his continued support of Phineas and Ferb.

"Well, whatever he is, we're going to be keeping an eye on him." Isabella gave Irving a quick glance, then stood to the side of the couch and motioned towards the window. "Just the other day, Irving and I tailed him and Phineas in some bizarre outing they went on. There was no harm, but..."

"Ferb was in a _tree,_ " Irving cut in. "Like, he was just sitting there! Like he was waiting for Phineas or something! And then they walked back home together. Like it was nothing." He paused, a finger on his chin, then offered, "Maybe it was hide-and-seek?"

"I doubt it," Isabella said with a critical look. "At least, I don't think it was _meant_ to be. Ferb was a far way from home." She ran a hand through her hair and looked across the many faces of her friends. "They may have been testing something, or... I don't know. It was _weird._ "

"I checked up on that tree just the other day," Irving added. "It had these huge gouges in it."

"Just like me," Baljeet said with a dry laugh.

Buford put a hand on Baljeet's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze as the girls muttered together again, making hushed comments about what sort of monstrosity Ferb could have become to do the things he had apparently done. None of them had seen him yet, after all. The loudest voice among them was Gretchen, who appeared irate about the situation.

"As Phineas and Ferb's friends," Isabella continued, "it's our job to make sure they don't do any further harm. We -"

"Did you even see the news report?" Gretchen interrupted, surprising Isabella with how angry she sounded. "He completely denied everything you say actually happened." She adjusted her glasses, then gestured towards Baljeet and Buford. "Phineas watched that happen, then blamed the attack on a _bear_ and said his _platypus_ saved them. How can you possibly still call him a _friend_ when he's not even taking responsibility for what he's done?" Isabella tried to cut in, but Gretchen continued. "I know you love him, Iz, but that's not good enough! He created a monster out of someone we all used to care about, and I'm not about to pretend that... that _thing_ is my friend or anything close to the actual Ferb Fletcher."

There was a heavy silence as her sharp words rang in the air.

Then, as if specifically to break the silence, Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro suddenly appeared in the entryway to the kitchen and waved at the assembled group. "Hey everybody! I hope you're all having fun! Does anyone want snacks?"

"We're fine, Mom," Isabella replied as she did her best to keep her composure.

"Okay, if you're sure. Are you two doing alright?" She looked pointedly at Buford and Baljeet, the latter of whom was looking a bit pale.

"We are fine," Baljeet answered with a forced smile. "Thank you, ma'am."

Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro looked at them skeptically, then smiled back and left the room. Another silence followed as everyone listened to her receding footsteps. Isabella knew her mother wasn't likely to think anything of what she heard; like most of the parents in Danville, she never seemed to pay much attention when Phineas and Ferb were being discussed, especially when it came to what shenanigans they were up to. Nothing had changed now, even with one of them supposedly dead and the entire town still in mourning.

"...Sorry." Gretchen adjusted her glasses again and looked down at the floor. "I just - Phineas is doing the wrong thing. And Ferb..." She shook her head. "I always liked him. He was a good guy. I... I just don't think whatever attacked Buford and Baljeet was _him._ Ferb never would have done something like that." She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up at Isabella. "And Phineas, who he was before this happened - he never would have just let his friends be hurt like that."

Phineas, and who he was before... Isabella's heart hurt to think about it, and one look at Buford and Baljeet told her that they felt the same way.

"...He seemed okay," Isabella said after a long pause, her voice soft and sorrowful. She had everyone's attention in an instant. "He was so happy to show us what he'd done. And I was so proud of him, I... I really thought..." She put a hand over her mouth, then clasped both hands in front of her thighs. "He seemed like _Phineas._ And then, Ferb... attacked."

Buford turned slightly in his seat to look at her more carefully. She'd never mentioned what _she_ saw Phineas doing; she had only listened to _them_ \- to Buford, mostly - tell her what had happened from their perspective.

"He just watched," she continued. "He just... stared at them, at _Ferb_ , and it was like he was an entirely different person. Then Candace came out, and... he was gone."

"You never told us this," Baljeet said in a low voice.

"I didn't want to." Isabella shook her head and leaned against the side of the couch, her hair falling around her face as she looked down at her feet. "I didn't want to think about it, either. I _don't_ want... I don't want there to be no hope for him. I want Phineas to be okay."

There was another silence, this one laden with sad feelings and an inkling of hopelessness.

"Aw, Iz..." Irving stood up from where he was sitting and approached her. "We all want him to be okay," he said as he placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. "But if he's not... We gotta take care of it. Right?" He gave her a smile, hoping to be reassuring.

"Right," Isabella said with a small nod. "Yes. That's... That's why I asked everyone to come here." She quickly wiped her eyes and turned back to face her other friends, absently shrugging Irving's hand away as she did. "Gretchen, Adyson, Ginger, Katie, Milly, Holly - I trust you girls more than anything. Can I ask you to help us with this?"

"Of course," said Gretchen, and the other girls gave their agreement along with her.

"We're not gonna wuss out just because this is a little scary," Adyson scoffed. "We've totally seen worse!"

Irving was about to voice his support as well when he noticed Buford and Baljeet, and the somber looks on their faces. He hesitated, then, remembering again how Isabella had responded to his excitement on the day they'd followed Phineas. The things the three of them had seen... Horrors beyond words, surely. Irving still found it hard to see Phineas and Ferb in a negative light, but hearing Buford's tale and what Isabella had to say about it, it was easier for him to understand why they seemed to feel the way they did about it all. "A little scary" probably wasn't an apt description of what they had experienced.

"Thank you so much, girls," Isabella said with a smile. "I knew I could count on you. As for the rest of you..." She paused, looked at Irving, then at Buford and Baljeet, then back towards her door.

"What is it?" Irving asked.

"Oh, Django still isn't here," Isabella replied with a tilt of her head. "He said he was coming. I wanted to ask him if he could maybe help make some artistic renderings of what happened, so we have something to reference."

"Wow, that sounds right up his alley," said Irving with a roll of his eyes. Django had become quite the impressive art student over the years, and it was basically his entire life - he didn't even have time for _Space Adventure_ anymore. Unless he was taking commissions, anyway, and though Irving was annoyed with his blind devotion to art, he _had_ bought a few pieces of his favorite sci-fi heroes in the past.

"I know, that's why I wanted to ask him." Isabella frowned as she looked at the door, then at the darkness outside of the window. "He would have told me if he wasn't coming..."

"Probably got caught up with his art," Irving said with a shrug.

Buford was the next to speak up, his voice wavering, but only just. "Are we, uh... _sure_ we want any kinda visual rendition of what happened? I'll be honest, I don't really wanna relive it, let alone through art." Baljeet nodded next to him.

Isabella waved her hand. "Oh, nothing too graphic," she said. "Just a basic visual explanation of the events. I want to make sure that we can really get across what we saw." She nodded towards the other Fireside Girls. "Not just for those present, but for anyone we bring on in the future. Besides... Django wanted to be a part of this. He cares, too."

Irving folded his arms over his chest and sighed. "Yeah, which explains why he's so late, right?"

Isabella glared at him, then sat down on the arm of the couch and looked out the window again. "I'm sure he's on his way," she said.

Yet, for the strangest reason, she could feel dread beginning to form in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

The rain was starting up again.

Django swore under his breath as he tucked his sketchbook into his jacket and zipped it up. The oncoming night had been so picturesque that he wanted to walk to Isabella's house and take it all in; he had a few good sketches going, but he wouldn't be able to do anything in the rain. Not without watercolors, anyway, and he'd only brought along a few pencils.

"Aw, shoot!" he exclaimed as he looked down at his watch. "I'm late!" He held onto the part of his jacket that covered his sketchbook and began to jog through the rain. He had thought he was on good time; apparently, sketching out the trees during sunset had taken longer than he thought it would.

"Isabella is gonna be so upset if I'm not there soon," he muttered to himself as he rounded a corner. In the darkness of the night, it was easier to talk to himself than remain silent; it made him feel better about being out alone. He wasn't necessarily afraid, just... a bit uneasy. Everything had felt so _off_ since the horrible accident...

And tonight's meeting was about that. Something about the accident, and how it was related to what happened to Buford and Baljeet. Isabella hadn't given Django any details outside of that, but he could begin to guess. There was only one thing that connected those two events, right? It was _Phineas_. He had done something, and somehow, it had injured his friends. Just another bad thing to come out of Ferb's death.

Just thinking that - _Ferb's death_ \- made Django's chest feel tight. Ferb was such a good friend, and he and Phineas were always so close... The two of them had inspired countless art pieces in the past decade, not the least of which was still proudly hung on the wall of his dad's art studio. That had been such a good day, painting with their giant tools...

Django's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of voices carrying through the night.

One was too quiet to hear, but the other was clear as day - and equally surprising. Unless Django was mistaken, he was hearing the happy-go-lucky voice of none other than _Phineas Flynn._

The thought occurred to him to divert his path immediately; something was up with Phineas, and it was possibly something dangerous. At the same time, it sounded so much like he had always sounded before that Django had a hard time actually feeling _that_ uneasy about running into him.

Through the haze of the rain, he could just barely see two approaching figures... and a brightly-glowing blue orb.

Curious now, Django continued forward, almost eager to see his friend again - and whoever he was talking with.

* * *

"That long, huh?"

Ferb swallowed hard and nodded. "Uh... Yeah. I guess you just looked so different when I got home..."

Phineas laughed and elbowed his brother in the ribs. "Well, no more summer vacations for you, alright? Not without me, anyway. We should definitely visit England again soon..." He looked down at the platypus walking between them. "I bet Perry would like to go again. Wouldn't you, boy?"

Perry chattered.

Ferb grimaced and rubbed his side. "I don't know about that," he said. "Maybe after you've made some more... Improvements. To me."

"Oh, of course," Phineas said as he reached out for Ferb's hand and held it tight. "I've got a lot of work to do before we'll be ready to go out traveling and exploring again. But as long as you're helping me, I'm sure we'll make great time on that! Don't you think so?"

"I guess."

As the rain began to pick up its pace, Phineas pulled the hood of his windbreaker up with his free hand. "You should have worn a jacket," he said to Ferb, who was only wearing a button-up shirt. "You were watching the rain for ages earlier. Didn't you think it'd come back?"

Ferb shrugged. "It's not that bad," he said as he held his right arm out and allowed the rain to patter down on it. "I like the rain. It feels nice."

Phineas looked at the extended arm as it gleamed in the light of the moon and Ferb's optic, then up at Ferb's face. Ferb looked back at him and offered a tentative smile. As always, Phineas beamed back, and Ferb's heart swelled in his chest. Even in the midst of all these terrible things, his brother was so wonderful. It was getting easier and easier to just get lost in that smile and forget all the horrors of the past few weeks...

"Hey, Phineas!"

_Oh no._

Ferb stepped back as Phineas and Perry continued forward into the circle of light from a nearby streetlamp. From the haze of the rain came none other than Django Brown, looking quite soaked and rather unperturbed by it.

 _Does he know?_ Ferb thought in a sudden panic as he stepped back even further, trying to hide himself in the darkness just like he had on that very first day. He saw Perry glance back at him, and for a brief moment, the platypus's eyes were on focus. They locked eyes and Ferb could see his own worry neatly reflected in Perry's expression. It should have been shocking that there was an expression at all, but Ferb was too upset to think about it.

"Phin, how are you?" Django asked as the two of them met under the light. "Are you doing alright? I saw that thing on the news about the bear..."

Phineas stared at Django for a moment, his face blank, then broke into a smile. "Oh, right! That! Yeah, it was horrible." He laughed a little and gestured to Perry, who had sat down by his feet. "Perry was a real hero. I dunno what would have happened to the guys without him."

There was a tense pause, and Ferb felt his heart start racing in his chest - or whatever was in his ribcage.

"...Is that really what happened?" Django shifted his weight and held part of his jacket tightly. "I'm, uh... I'm on my way to go see Isabella. She told me something _else_ happened, Phineas."

"Isabella?" Phineas stared again, his eyes wide and lips drawn tight.

"Yeah. She was gonna tell me and the others... I'm kinda late." Django chuckled uneasily and held up his watch. "But, hey, you're here! You can tell me what really happened, right dude?"

Ferb could feel the darkness creeping in, and he tried to will it away as hard as he could. Phineas looked back at him, and Ferb tried to gesture for him to hurry up and get the conversation over with.

"Who's that you're with, by the way?"

Ferb's chest tightened so hard he felt like he couldn't breathe.

"It's..." Phineas hesitated. "...Django. You know I can do amazing things, right?"

A chill breeze whipped past them, spraying rainwater and leaves everywhere and causing the streetlamp to flicker. Ferb felt all too aware of how his optic glowed in the dark.

"Yeah," Django said with a faltering smile. "Of course. I didn't forget, Phin. I know it's been a while and all, but..." He trailed off and looked in Ferb's direction. "...Uh, what did you _do,_ exactly?"

Phineas leaned down to pick Perry up and held him close to his chest. "Nothing that couldn't be done," he said. Then he looked at Ferb again, motioning for his brother to step forward.

Ferb wanted nothing more than to _not_ reveal himself, but he knew there was no way out (unless he ran away again, anyway, and he didn't want that either). Django would see through the dark eventually if he didn't just come forward. He had to let this happen.

So he went forward, stepped up next to his brother and into the light.

The whole world felt like it was swaying beneath him.

Django didn't seem to realize what he was seeing at first. He was _confused_. Perhaps he thought he was seeing an automaton of some kind. Yet as he stared harder, it all began to come together, and Ferb knew his face was still too recognizable even with the optic and the wires and the scars. He'd seen himself in the mirror enough times, been horrified by how much of _himself_ he could see under so much that was entirely unfamiliar.

"Oh my god," Django choked out. "Is... Is that...?"

"I fixed him," Phineas said with a small smile. "It's okay. He's fine. And we found out what exactly made him go all out on Buford and Baljeet, so -"

" _He_ did that to them?!" Django took several steps back, his eyes wide in sudden terror. "Baljeet had punctured _organs!_ How did...?" He looked Ferb up and down quickly, then shook his head. "Oh my god. They were _torn apart_. You..."

"It's fine now," Phineas said, his voice strangely flat in the midst of all the emotions swirling up around him. "It won't happen again."

Perry struggled in his arms.

Ferb tried to take deep breaths.

"Phineas," Ferb croaked, his fingers digging into his brother's shoulder. "We need to go."

Django took a shaky step forward and raised his hand to point a shaking, accusatory finger. "You tried to kill them," he said as he looked into Ferb's eyes, his own face reflected back in the optic. "You... Phineas, how in the world is this thing _safe?_ "

Ferb dug his fingers in harder, and Phineas winced and tried to pull away. "Ow, Ferb," he said, arms tightening around Perry. "You're _hurting_ me."

"Why is he hurting you?!" Django asked in a panic. "Phineas, what's going on with him- with that thing?"

Phineas tried to explain, tried to open his mouth to say that Ferb was just nervous, that it was nothing to do with him being what he was now. He wasn't dangerous. He wasn't a threat. There was no need to be scared, and if Django could just calm down, they could get through this painlessly.

If he managed to say anything at all, Ferb didn't hear it. All he heard was, " _Why is he hurting you?"_ and " _that thing"._ Then the darkness was rushing in to meet him, eagerly feeding on the echoes of Django's words.

* * *

The sketchbook Django had been carrying with him clattered to the sidewalk, falling open to a piece done shortly after the funeral of a sad young man in a black tuxedo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I'm so sorry for how long this took, but I'm back and I'm gonna try to be back for as long as it takes to finish this story! It's been a while since I've written anything like this, so feedback is VERY much appreciated! Thank you all so much!


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